Forgiveness
by Foxbear
Summary: When a mysterious Decepticon surrenders to the human military he is handed over to the Autobots. There is no doubt that the quiet mech carries as many secrets as he does scars. What happens to Cybertronians who dare defy Megatron? spin off of ep. 13
1. Chase

Driver 1

Assignment

A Transformers Prime FanFiction

Across the starry void the hunter and the hunted coursed. Two ships. One perused one fled, but which was which who could tell?

The ship currently in the lead was in better shape. Its engines purred easily, great gears turning smoothly. The crew was calm, each moving about their assigned task efficiently, and armor chinking softly where two friends brushed shoulders for reassurance. There was no fear evident here. They sought essential fuel for their craft, for themselves. If they couldn't find it their deaths were certain, either in battle or by starvation.

The following ship was in chaos. The engines choked and coughed. Smoke seeped into every corridor from a hundred cracks in the plating. Low on energon and desperate the crew was only kept from open brawling by fear of the Captain. In the dark corners of the ship the larger preyed on the smaller; inflicting torture in a thousand small ways to vent their own fear and rage. When the ship they chased stopped to fuel they would strike. Until then fear and darkness reigned.

But to every rule there is usually an exception. Down in the bowels of the ship eleven forms waited in a cargo hold. They were a motley looking bunch, mid ranged in size for Cybertronians for the most part. Hides scored by long exposure to the harshest of elements gave little indication of color in the dim light. The largest one held the two smallest tenderly to its chest plates. Ten had their optics fixed on one. The one lifted his head and gave a tired smile. Like a wave the smile spread across the circle.

O

O

Both ships drew nearer a nondescript solar system; one primary star, four gas giants, four marginally habitable worlds, a few stellar bodies on the outskirts of the system that the astrologs couldn't give a precise designation for, and a large asteroid belt. The third planet was marked in the databases. Others of their kind had been here before, had left their ped-prints in the organic soil of the world. On the hope of those old records the lead ship had pointed its prow towards the blue orb.

The commander of the leading vessel stood resolutely in the center of the bridge as the crew moved silently around him. His green armor glowed dully under the dim lighting. Every scrap of energon that could be conserved was. His blue optics gleamed out from under his domed helm. In one hand he loosely held a staff. Broad shoulders and a powerful chassis were held up by two pillar-like legs. The crew we all of the same protoform mold. Created to be warriors, they were brothers forged by battle. On the shoulder of each a stylized red face stared out stoically.

The comm. officer strode forward and presented him with a sensor readout. He flicked his optics over the results of the system scan. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. The hope had been rewarded.

"Navigation, plot a course for the third planet; tertiary continent, north western quadrant, within a three klick burn of the primary ocean." The commander ordered calmly.

"Did we find an energon source?" the youngest member of the crew asked eagerly.

The commander handed the warrior the readout and watched with satisfaction as hope and determination spread across his faceplates. Danger stalked them, but now they had a plan, they had a line on more than enough resources to get them home, and they had the advantage in numbers and firepower.

O

O

In the cargo hold of the perusing ship a door cycled open. Before it had fully cycled one of the Cybertronians had placed himself in front of it, effectively blocking the view of the others with his broad shoulder plates. The light from the corridor shone in on his battered white hide. On the other side of the door a sinuous black form examined him closely.

"We have an assignment for your crew," a silky voice purred. "One especially suited to your, particular skill set."

The white mech in front of her nodded. She smiled coyly at him and reached out a long limb to stroke his faceplate gently.

"Whatever could be the matter? You don't seem especially happy to see me dearest. Did I do something?"

The sturdy mech remained motionless, but his silver optics brightened to burn like twin stars at her touch.

"Don't you even want to know what your task will be?" the femme asked.

The mech continued to stare at her, face plates expressionless. The jet black Decpticon stretched out her many limbs and wrapped her arms around the mech's neck strut. She gently stroked his faceplate and whispered into his comm. unit.

"Come by my quarters when you receive the planetary approach signal. You'll get the details then, and maybe something else." She backed up and the door cycled shut.

For a moment the mech simply stood there, optics burning. Suddenly his forearm shifted, five servos fused into a massive drill. With a snarl of fury he plunged the drill into the bulkhead. The metal of the wall shrieked in protest. He stormed over to his seat on a cargo container and sat fuming. Another mech got up quietly and went to the wall. It pulled out a welding torch and began to meticulously repair the damage. The white Decpticon felt a tentative ping against his CPU. He glanced up at the smallest two members of his crew. They were staring at him with fear in their optics. With a tremendous effort he cleared his seething emotions enough to give them a weak smile.

"We have work," he said. Once he felt he was calm enough he let his defenses drop and reached out to his brothers over their bond. They responded and he felt the reassurance of knowing they were there, alive. He tried not to think about the femme, tried not to think about what that sadistic smile meant and what kind of work awaited them.


	2. Planet Fall

Driver 2

Planetfall

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"Were closing in on our landing vector Commander," a voice calmly stated.

Commander Holdfast nodded in acknowledgment.

"Reduce speed to subsonic and brace for atmospheric entry."

Alarms began to sound. Energon readouts were redlining across the Autobot ship.

"Offline those alarms," snarled the first officer. "We don't need to waste energon having some scrapping computer tell us we're low on energon." The noise cut off abruptly as some subordinate obeyed. In the ensuing silence the ship could be heard straining under the stress of atmospheric entry. She had been built for it; every scoop and curve on her hull was designed to plunge into the gasses of any world imaginable. Still everybot felt a surge of relief as they sighted solid land. The ship impacted with the ground roughly. Sparks flew from half a dozen overworked systems. The commander waited patiently as the crew rallied from the almost crash.

The first officer appeared at his side with the preliminary report. The commander let his shoulders relax slightly. The inertial dampeners had held. The ship was structurally undamaged. Nobot had been seriously injured in the crash, any more than they already were.

"Hardstrike, prepare a reconnaissance team," the commander ordered. "We have but few cycles before the Decepticons are in range. I want as much energon in our storage bay as we can fit before they get here."

"Captain!" the first officer acknowledged.

The commander triggered the comm. and began issuing orders throughout the ship. Repair crews began reparing the damaged sections, engineering crews prepped the drilling equipment, and medical teams tended the injured. One particularly insistent medic approached the captain with determination on his faceplates, but his commander studiously ignored him.

"Captain Holdfast. Cleftplate needs to scan you for injuries," the medic stated firmly but respectfully. "She requests your presence in sickbay immediately."

Holdfast nodded absently and murmured something along the lines of he'd be along shortly. The medic arched and optic ridge at that and spoke again.

"Cleftplate informed me that if you didn't immediately accompany me to her I was to suggest that she might be needing a cube," the medic's voice faltered a bit at the end as his captain's faceplates stiffened in some unreadable emotion.

The commanding officer stared hard at the healer for a moment and something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle came from the direction of the first officer. Holdfast shot him a venomous look that wilted the medic, who wasn't even his intended target, but had no effect on his executive officer and oldest friend.

"Hardstrike," he growled, "you have the bridge."

O

O

The sickbay was nearly empty when the captain stormed in. One glance at his scowling faceplates caused several sudden, miraculous cures and within moments the space was clear except for the CMO and the Captain.

"Really Cleftplate?" he demanded, "blackmail?"

"You are here, it worked," the bulky fem laconically replied without turning. "Get on the berth."

Knowing an argument would be pointless the captain growled and stepped into the vertical med berth. Cleftplate's shimmering green armor caught the sickbay lights as she ran the scanners over him. Once that was done she began administering various injections; the captain was privately certain that this was more to fulfill some latent sadistic tendency than any real physical need of his but could never prove it. Once that was done she wordlessly began realigning mesh plates battered by hard use and long inattention.

"It's looking good," Holdfast finally broke the silence.

Cleftplate arched an optic ridge at him in query.

"The drills are already harvesting energon from the vein we discovered," he explained, "and it hasn't degraded too far from the state it was in when it was stored on this planet after the battle. In just a few clicks we'll have enough refined energon to be able to refuel the ship and provide for the needs of the crew until we rendezvous with the rest of the fleet at Regulon Four."

The medic let out a pleased grunt and gave a stubborn joint a particularly rough jolt. Captain Holdfast winced as the plate snapped back into place. He had been putting basic maintenance off too long he knew. But there was always so much to do. He let his processor begin wandering off to the crew rosters while his determined medic continued her ministrations.

O

O

A sturdy white mech paused before a hatch. His broad, battered shoulders stiffened as he prepared himself to enter the commander's quarters. A passing vehicon leered at him smugly but the miner chose to ignore it. He knew what rumors went around the ship. It didn't matter. He triggered his com and the portal dilated open revealing darkness beyond.

The mech's faceplates twisted in disgust. Was she trying to intimidate him? She knew as well as anybot that his vision extended well into every know spectrum. Better than most, his inner mechanisms clenched as the memories of what she had done to him in the past resurfaced.

"Won't you come in my love?" a silky voice purred from the darkness.

The mech strode into the quarters and stood impassively staring at the fem lounging against the bulkhead. There was no denying she was beautiful. Her mesh glowed smoothly far into the infrared spectrum and her optics burned like stars in the darkness. Each band of her lithe frame hummed with power and her eight limbs swayed in constant but subtle motion. That physical beauty had lost all allure for him long ago however. Now he could only see his brothers who had died at the end of her long cruel talons.

When he had first seen the hunter she had fascinated him. In her every movement there was power, aggression, and poise completely foreign to the world of miners he had known before Megatron had claimed his unit for the Decepticons. She had made overtures towards him which the mech had eagerly accepted despite the warnings of older Cons. It had cost much time and pain before he had realized his mistake. Now he always blocked his bond when he entered her presence alone. There was no point in exposing the remains of his family to her sadistic whims.

"The stars are lovely in this sector aren't they?" she asked sweetly as she moved to stand closer to him.

A long black arm wrapped around his shoulders and the mech couldn't help flinching away, mentally cursing his weakness when he saw the pleased smile that flickered across her faceplates.

"Aren't you curious about your mission?" the fem murmured into his audio receptor.

The miner didn't move, didn't respond. A look of annoyance set itself in the beautiful faceplates and she dug her stroking claws in a bit deeper, drawing a thin line of energon from his mesh. Still he didn't respond; mere physical pain had long ago ceased to motivate the mech. The black fem looked like she was about to go on when she suddenly stiffened and her optics went out of focus.

"Ah, pity," she muttered, "out of time. Too bad."

The fem pulled away from the mech and took a more military pose. The mech felt a data package ping against his CPU and dutifully opened it.

"Commander Deadlock orders you to take your entire unit and deliver a package to the Autobot ship below us," the fem informed him. "They have landed and begun harvesting energon. You will be provided with an atmospheric entry vessel. Once you land you will proceed immediately to drill to the coordinates given to you and sabotage the ship in the indicated manner, after the completion of which you will rendezvous with the energon retrieval team. Any questions?"

"Who will you be keeping here?"

An odd smile split her face plates.

"Weren't you listening? I said you were ordered to take your entire crew."

The mech stiffened. Keeping one of his unit hostage while the rest were on missions had been the standard for every job since their first and only failed attempt at defection. A faint warning rang in his mind, but if this meant they were together he certainly wasn't going to complain.

"Is that all?" he asked stiffly.

"Yes, you'd better get going. Dreadlock doesn't like to be kept waiting. As you well know," a small chuckle escaped her after that last remark but the mech refused to respond.

The miner bowed low.

"As you say commander Araichnid."

She watched him leave, letting her optics linger on his small but powerful form as it was highlighted in the portal one last time. Something small and weak twinged somewhere deep within her spark. With a start the ebony fem realized that she would miss the nameless miner. A sudden urge to call him back one last time flickered through her CPU. As she had done so many times in the past the Decepticon shook the odd and somewhat disconcerting compassionate impulse off and proceeded to disinfect her talons.


	3. Capture

Driver 3

Capture

A Transformers Prime FanFiction

The Energon harvest was proceeding faster than the captain had hoped. They had a large stockpile stored on an island in a sea of saline water, and had begun moving the precious energy source to the ship. Holdfast was assisting one of the engineers in repairing a ruptured energon line when his comm. chimed.

"Holdfast here."

"Captain," Hardstrike's voice called out with a note of confusion. "I think there is a ship approaching the harvesting crews on the island…"

"You think?" Holdfast stiffened as imaged of Decepticons descending on his crew flashed through his processor.

"Yes, it appears to be primarily organic in nature with only thin copper plating covering the hull. It's definitely not spaceworthy. I think you should come look at this."

The captain nodded and handed the spanner back to the crew mech. By the time he arrived on the bridge the strange ship was displayed on the main screen. Holdfast could understand his first officer's confusion. It looked like a ship from a distance, and a pretty little craft at that, but scans showed that it was nearly entirely composed of organic matter and possessed no mechanical means of propulsion. Closer inspection showed that the hull was open to the atmosphere in several places. It was currently coasting along the surface of the saline liquid.

"What is it?" a crew mech murmured softly. "A communications drone?"

It did look that way, the captain mused. The ship's sensors weren't reading any lifeforms and the top deck was nearly completely obscured by three masts, each easily taller than the vessel itself, and their accompanying surfaces and cables. At the rear of the strange ship a red banner displayed a crossed pattern of red, white, and blue in one corner.

"See if you can get a translation on their name," Holdfast ordered.

"Captain?" Swiftped the science officer spoke up cautiously.

"Yes?"

"I think I may have to revise the statement that the vessel is unmanned."

"Swiftped?" the captain asked with a furrowed brow.

"I am reading distinct heat signatures moving about the ship proper and the rigging; which, judging by a comparison of the movement of the ship and the current atmospheric pressure gradations is far more likely to be,"

"Swiftped!" Hardstrike barked out.

"Oh, sorry sir. They're organic organisms," he explained more succinctly, "and the above deck rigging is the propulsion system, not communications."

"Captain Holdfast," the communications officer piped up suddenly. "I have a partial translation on the name. The first three symbols appear to be some shortened designation but the main meaning is Resolution."

"A stout name," the warrior responded approvingly. "Well, there is no need to be unfriendly with the natives. As they appear to have already noticed us we'll initiate contact. Hardstrike, you have the ship. I will take a small crew out in one of the scout ships to make first contact. It would be best to warn them about the Decepticons before they arrive. Speaking of which?" Holdfast turned to his first officer.

"They are almost in orbit," Hardstrike answered. "I seriously doubt they will be able to bring the _Viper _into the atmosphere, but they will no doubt be sending transports to gather energon."

"Most likely to steal what we have processed," Holdfast agreed. "Dreadlock never was one to condone honest work. The storage facilities on the island have been secured?"

"Affirmative."

"Very well then; keep a weather eye out for Con activity and let's go greet our hosts."

O

O

Eleven Cybertronians were crowded into a landing pod as it burned through the upper atmosphere. Their mission was simple; drill through the bedrock and come up under the Autobot ship, attach certain devices to particular points on the underside of the hull, and then drill back to the rendezvous coordinates. The largest of the mechs sat in the center of the cluster planning out the operation. Sending out inquires on health and fitness over the bond and analyzing the results.

The craft shuddered as they passed from one layer of atmosphere to another and armor struck armor as they rattled around in their harnesses. The leader glanced in concern at the two smallest of the miners and wordlessly opened a compartment below his spark chamber. Both immediately unfastened their harnesses and climbed in; transforming as they did to fit into the compartment. The white mech's chestplates closed over them and he went on planning his attack.

With a shriek the proximity alarms announced the imminent approach of the ground. The planning stopped. The lead mech briefly let his optics flicker over the faceplates of the remains of his crew. Eons of pain and grief were etched in those haggard mesh surfaces. Silently he sent a promise out over the bond they shared. He would keep them alive. In the past there had been more to the promise; freedom, honest labor, and hope. Now, survival was all the white mech dared propose, and even that seemed far too audacious most of the time. Each of the mechs went limp as the pod fired its thrusters one more time and crashed into the surface of the planet. The Cybertronians forced through the wreckage, preformed a quick maintenance check, and dove into the ground. The soil and permafrost around the wreckage suddenly heaved and split as the ground seemed to swallow the wrecked craft whole. Within moments there was nothing left to betray their presence save a slight disturbance in the tundra vegetation.

O

O

Captain Holdfast strode back into his ship with a huge grin splitting his face plates. The first contact had been nearly perfect. The organic commander of the group, there was another ship in the convoy, had been pleasantly astonished at being addressed in his own language by the Cybertronians and was immediately curious and friendly. They were on a mission of scientific inquiry and exploration for their nation. He had been concerned over their descriptions of the Cons. Stating that they too were dealing with a rebellious faction.

After a long and productive, if somewhat confusing, discussion, the organic captain had pledged to offer what aid he could to the Autobots. Holdfast had politely declined any direct assistance, explaining that there was less chance the Decepticons would target the humans, as they called themselves, if there was no obvious alliance but had left one of the more basic comm. units with the senior captain in case there was time for further contact.

The human captain had seemed especially curious about their navigation methods. Holdfast felt a slight twinge of guilt when he realized exactly how much time he'd spent merely chatting away with the human about the stars he'd visited, the very same stars his counterpart only knew as points of light used to guide their fragile wooden craft. In turn the Cybertronian had crouched fascinated, listening to the organic explain how his people's knowledge of science and astronomy was growing daily, each new discovery leading to a dozen more questions. Despite having barely begun to master the archaic science of electric power the audacious little creatures were already dreaming of space travel. The majority of their machinery was still stream driven for Primus's sake.

The captain glanced down at the little bundle of organic fibers he held in his servos. The 'book', a gift from the human captain, contained diagrams of the most advanced machinery this planet had to offer in the way of those steam engines. Fortunately despite, or perhaps because of, the primitive nature of this planet's technology the mobile machines were large; more than large enough to accommodate the frames of the warrior caste members of his crew. It would be useful if the situation developed so they had to stay here for any length of time. Though he fervently prayed it wouldn't come to that. There was a war to fight, and first and foremost the crew of this ship were warriors.

"Captain Holdfast," Hardstrike greeted him as the commander strode onto the bridge.

The commander noted the datapads in the EXO's servos and the attentive look on his faceplates. There were matters that needed his attention. Holdfast handed the book off to the science officer with instructions to scan it into the databanks and make certain the entire crew had uploaded at least one of the altmodes. The captain then turned his attention to the dozens of minutia that were required to run a ship.

O

O

Joy, despite everything, joy. If there was one thing the mining multi-gestalts were experts at, other that mining of course, it was living in the moment. Right now they tunneled through the granite beneath the tundra, exhilarating in their own movement. For the moment they were free of the confines of the cursed Deception prison that was the _Viper_, free from the depraved attention of Airachnid, and doing the work they loved; the work they were designed to do.

Silence was key. No easy task when you are drilling through rock. Each of the nine mechs were attuned to the gestalt bond, staggering the pace and position of their drills so that the reverberations canceled each other out. The mech in the center was producing a forcefield that further dampened the sound of their approach. It wasn't perfect, but the Autobot ship wouldn't know they had been there until the multi-gestalt was long gone. That was the plan.

The lead mech sent a ping out to the outliers to double check the actual noise they were making. The two smallest of the gestalt had each merged with one of their larger companions and were entirely focused on listening to every frequency. They reported back that levels were well within acceptable limits, and then sent back such a wave of glee that the lead mech would have smiled if he had a mouth in this form. Not that everything was perfect.

The crust of this planet was far too brittle and frigid for the miners' taste. Designed to work in the metallic layers of Cybertron the rocky nature of most other planets had been difficult to master. The first soft yielding layers were full of organic fibers that snagged and caught in their servos and drills and water that seeped into every crack and orifice and stung any injury. At least the local mobile organic life had vacated the area at the sound of their drills so they didn't have to worry about attacks. The next layer was a nightmare of mineral and organic deposits that dulled their bits. When they finally did reach what passed for bedrock, a brittle blend of four minerals, at least the friction of their drills against the material kept the temperature at a pleasant level.

On their home world the consistency of every layer of the planet was known. Sometimes it took much researching to find that data that might easily be millennia old, but somebot, sometime in the past had surveyed that location before. Finding that data had been one of the burly white mech's tasks, therefore his processing capacity was programmed to be markedly higher than his brothers'. At times like this he envied their ability to ignore the harsh reality that awaited them all once they got back to the ship.

For a moment the thought flickered across his processor. What if they didn't go back? Before it was even properly formed subroutines roared up from his subconscious and killed it. Over the gestalt bond the others only felt a sudden wave of urgency and they carefully accelerated. Airachind had made good and sure in her own unique way that he knew the consequences of defection.

The outliers signaled that they were approaching the target. Once they cleared the bedrock and came up into the pulpy over-layer the two smallest detached and scurried silently up onto the ship. They skittered about its hull placing the devices in the locations indicated. The rest of the gestalt watched fearfully. Even though they were all the same age the larger mechs felt protective of the little reconnoiterers. They were small and swift and so painfully fragile.

The bulky white one reviewed the data Airachnid had supplied him with on this particular Autobot captain. Holdfast was a sadistic brute who derived his greatest pleasure from torturing captured Cons, the smaller and more helpless the better. He kept the details to himself. It was difficult in a gestalt, and withholding anything from his brothers was painful in its own way, but serving Megatron and his lieutenants had led him to commit far worse crimes to protect his unit. Still he couldn't hide his fear for their brothers. Just as they were about to affix the last and largest package to the aft quarter the miner's fears were realized.

"There! Capture the little scraps alive," a rough voice shouted, "Holdfast wants to interrogate them."

The lead mech surged up towards the surface and with the speed of thought his gestalt brothers followed him. Before he breached the soil he felt the pain as the stun blasts caught the scouts. With a roar of rage he leapt out into the atmosphere and transformed into his bipedal mode. One mighty drill tipped arm plunged into the back of the green mech who was holding the two scouts. His brothers were engaging the three perimeter guards all around him. For one brief moment he thought they would make it; would escape with their lives together. The spongy ground was stained with the Autobots' energon and the multi-gestalt had yet to lose a drop. Then like a wave Holdfast was on them.

O

O

Captain Holdfast glared grimly at the battered white mech kneeling in front of him. No less than six sets of stasis cuffs were required to restrain the Cybertronian whose frame had been designed to twist in and out of unimaginably tight spaces. Clear silver optics stared defiantly back at him, but the commander could sense fear behind that iron gaze; fear for his unit. Something the commander understood too well.

The capture had not resulted in any deaths but the cost had been high. Even outnumbered three to one the Decepticons had put up a terrific fight. Their hides were far harder than was standard in a warrior mech, causing most of the Autobots ranged weapons to be useless and their blades only half effective. The difficulty was compounded by their fighting style. Typically among Decepticons there was a distrust and rivalry which impaired teamwork. Even the gestalts displayed this when fighting individually. But the burly little cons had fought back to back without the slightest hint of disunion. More like Autobots than Decepticons, the captain mused with grudging admiration.

But that battle skill had left two thirds of his crew causalities, with a full one third out of duty for the foreseeable future. Those who were undamaged were now busy tending the injured or pulling triple shifts to cover for downed crewmates. Cleftplate came in carrying the smallest of the Decepticons bound with silver confinement tape; their limbs too small for stasis cuffs.

"So," the Autobot mused out loud. "What do I do with you?"

Fear deep and primal flickered across the lead mech's faceplates and then was gone. Holdfast rubbed his brow ridges in exasperation. Whoever these Cons were they were terrified of him, and that fear was somehow connected with these two little ones.

"Release them," he curtly ordered the CMO.

Cleftplate nodded and retracted the silver bonds. The little ones hesitated and then darted over to their larger leader. With an astonished look at the captain the white mech opened his chestplates and the two transformed and darted into the cavity waiting for them. Silver optics studied Holdfast sharply now. The captain let the mech think for several clicks before speaking.

"You are a mining gestalt from the _Viper_."

The mech hesitated, but he could see no harm in answering the statement, and he could tell from the emotions coming over the gestalt bond that his brothers were by no means suffering the cruelty which Airachnid had taught to expect. He nodded uncertainly.

"What is you designation?"

Again the mech could see no harm in answering. If he kept talking maybe the Autobot would just offline them all together.

"Miner lead mech 7.3."

The captain arched an eyebrow at that. How was it that such a skilled and experienced soldier had not yet taken a name for himself?

"Where is the rest of your unit?"

"We are all here," the miner replied curtly.

Holdfast glanced in shock at Cleftplate. The healer nodded and handed him a datapad displaying the eleven life signals pulsing in synchronization.

"Only eleven left," the commander murmured amazed.

He saw the battered white mech flinch and despite what this Decepticon had just put his crew through he felt a surge of compassion for the miner. Suddenly the other mech's face hardened and his silver optics sought Holdfast's gaze in determination.

"I will make a deal," the Decepticon declared.


	4. Making a Deal

Driver 4

A Transformers Prime FanFiction

Captain Holdfast shuttered his optics at the mech before him in surprise. Not that it was all that unusual for a Decepticon to barging for his life when captured but the terms the miner had offered were far from ordinary. The mech had seemed eager even to hand everything he knew regarding the workings of the _Viper _over to the Autobots. In exchange, he asked for very little indeed.

O

O

"A clean offlining?" Hardstrike repeated incredulously, "for his entire crew?"

The senior officers stood around the conference table listening to the captain recount the conversation.

"That was his request," Holdfast rubbed his optics ridges ruefully. "I get the oddest feeling that he is specifically terrified of me and expects far worse."

"In exchange for what?" the first officer demanded.

"Any and all information he posses on the _Viper _and its crew."

"Well, that doesn't sound suspicious at all," the security officer growled.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Cleftplate offered quietly.

All optics turned to the CMO. She rarely spoke but when she did bots listened.

"After everything calmed down I preformed a thorough examination of each of our prisoners. What I found was disturbing to say the least." She shifted several datapads around in her hands and placed one in the center of the table. "Much of the damage I observed on them was easily explainable as injuries due to their programmed function of mining or combat. However the greater part is not." She triggered the table's holographic display function and eleven medical scans hovered over the table. "Everything I've highlighted in green are what I'll call suspicious injuries; the kind that only come from scientific experimentation."

The officers stared at the display grimly. None of the Decepticons were free of the tell-tell green markings and most were more covered than not.

"From the rate of healing," Cleftplate continued coldly. "This has been going on for eons. Some are so faint I can only presume they predate the fall of Cybertron. Some are only solarcycles old. It is not surprising that there are so few individuals of this multi-gestalt left. The question is how the survivors have managed to hang on so long. They have little reason to expect anything better. I can assure you that the eleven we have in the brig at the moment are all that are left of the gestalt. They have no reason to go back to the Decepticons."

Silence filled the room for a moment as the mechinoids mulled over the information. No one was particularly shocked by the information. They had been fighting the Cons far too long for that, horrified was probably a more accurate term.

"It's still suspicious," Hardstrike insisted, "too good to be true. Even assuming those miners in there are innocent of any plotting, and judging from their processing level I'd say that's pretty likely. Why did Dreadlock send them all out at once?"

"He expected them to get captured and fold like an Andromedian Cleaver," the security officer stated bluntly.

"But why? A distraction?" Captain Holdfast demanded, absently mindedly rubbing the patched gash in his side where the large white Con had caught him a glancing blow.

"If that was the purpose it had the opposite effect," Hardstrike replied. "I've initiated level five security protocols."

"Why don't you ask the resident Decepticon?" Cleftplate suddenly put in.

Bowing to the wisdom of the laconic CMO the other officers retired to their duties.

O

O

"Cleftplate?"

The healer glanced up at the soldier who stood before her shifting uneasily.

"Yes Striker? Can I help you?"

"Well you said to report it if the cut I got from that Con started acting up…" the warrior trailed off embarrassed and glanced around for a means of escape.

The doctor tried to hide her annoyance and muttered softly about stubborn mechs as she guided the tan mech to a med berth.

"What exactly is the trouble?" she asked patiently.

"It burns a bit," Striker explained, "the cut does I mean."

Cleftplate took a few initial scans before she was interrupted by the comm.

"Senior officer's meeting," she grunted as she snapped the scanner shut. "Come back in three cycles and we'll finish up."

The mech nodded and eagerly shot out of the sickbay. Cleftplate shook her helm with a small smile. That same soldier would probably face down Megatron himself without flinching. She glanced over the partial results and the smile slipped away. There was something familiar about them. She would definitely look closer after the meeting.

O

O

It was too good to be true. The bulky white mech considered the captain's proposal from every angle. He was going to give the Autobot the information anyway. Revenge may or may not have played a role in his decision; he was a simple mech and didn't question his motives too deeply, but it had become abundantly clear that this mission was supposed end with his unit being offlined one way or another. He was determined to spare his remaining brothers as much pain as possible. If that meant ensuring the destruction of the _Viper_, so be it. But this proposal…

"I have spoken to the representative of one of the nation states of this world. They are willing to accept your unit as refugees," Holdfast had said calmly once the white mech had transferred the bulk of the data. "In exchange for assisting them with developing their mining infrastructure they will grant the eleven of you asylum within their empire. We will leave you enough energon to keep up your basic maintenance needs until you can process your own."

The captain had left then to oversee the planning for the coming battle. To everyone's surprise Dreadlock had opted to set down energon retrieval crews on the other side of the planet and mine his own energon. However the Autobot ship was still in better repair to start with and they had a head start. Granted, the _Viper _had the advantage of altitude but it would still be far from an even battle. Something was not right, the thought plagued the captain as he irritably rubbed the itch on his side. The Decepticon captain was a brilliant strategist. He had to have some deeper plan.

"Captain."

The Autobot commander turned to face his first officer.

"We've found something."

O

O

"This still makes little sense," the security chief growled looking over the strange device on the table.

"Can I assume you found this due to the information we received from the miner?" Holdfast asked.

"Yep," the security mech replied. "Twenty of the things, but this one was special. The rest were merely explosives. They would have been bad news if we went through the atmosphere with them on our hull but even the most basic of pre-flights would have located them. This one was cloaked seven different ways. Those little miner scouts told us exactly where they placed it and we still had a pit of a time finding the bugger. It was programmed to hack the comm. system and download a virus. We've already isolated the code and erased it from the ship's mainframe but it had already done it's work."

"Which was?" Holdfast prompted.

"It backed up the waste energon reclamation lines into the main fresh energon dispensing system."

Hardstrike let out an aggressive hiss as the full implications hit him. That was a mean bit of coding. It would have had to override layer upon layer of safeties designed specifically to prevent that. More than that though it meant a traitor.

"That should be impossible," Holdfast was protesting. "In order to override all the safeties without tripping every alarm on the ship the virus would have to have contained the top level override codes. Not even I know how to implement them."

"True, the only place they could have got them from is somewhere in central command."

Silence fell around the table. No one wanted to think about the implications of that. The prospect of one of the Prime's inner circle betraying the cause was unimaginable.

"Our priorities have changed," Holdfast finally said. "As soon as we leave this planet we have to carry this intelligence to Optimus Prime himself. But that still leaves us asking why? The energon lines have already purged. What did they hope to accomplish by revealing their hand this way? Cleftplate?"

The CMO's face had suddenly gone blank. She shot up and strode out of the room. The captain and first officer exchanged sharp looks.

"Dismissed!" Holdfast barked and followed Cleftplate out the door.

She burst into sickbay and snatched up a scanner. After spending only moments reviewing the data on it she spun on Holdfast and roughly shoved him into a medberth. The captain fell back unresisting and let her run the scanner over him. When she had finished the scan her servos were trembling.

"Cleftplate," Holdfast asked gently taking her shaking hands in his. "What is it?"

"Cybonic plague," she whispered. "Those scrapping monsters have infected us all with cybonic plague."


	5. Plague

Driver 5

Plague

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

The lead miner started as Holdfast strode into his cell with the CMO hard on his heels. Fear gripped his spark when he saw the look of fury on the captain's faceplates. Rage burned in the Autobot's optics.

"Security!" the captain jerked his head toward the white mech still bound in stasis cuffs.

Two burly crewmechs grabbed the silent Decepticon and carried him between them out of the cell. They followed the captain to sickbay. The white mech fought to keep from trembling and locked his chestplates down over his two brothers. The CMO ran scans over him, cursed fluently in several different languages, and then threw the scanner into the wall with a resounding crack.

"A carrier virus hidden deep in their systems," she hissed, "just as I suspected. Nearly impossible to spot unless you know exactly what to look for. Less virulent so the host can carry longer, but ultimately just as fatal."

The white mech sat hunched on the berth desperately trying to follow the conversation. He could sense the fear and rage coming off the two bots and in his experience that never boded well for him and his. Suddenly the medic turned on him and gripped his lower mandible.

"Where did you get that scratch?" she demanded staring intently at the shallow gouge Airachnid had left on his faceplates when she gave him the assignment.

The mech hesitated, unsure why the medic was suddenly fixated on the minor injury, and there were other reasons he didn't wish to speak of it; more personal reasons. Sensing his hesitation Holdfast shifted slightly and fixed his glare on the miner.

"My commanding officer," the mech hesitated again and pain clouded his optics. "She gets a little feely some times. It's normal for her."

The two Autobots exchanged disgusted looks and the miner flinched, wondering idly if it was himself or Airachnid the look was directed at, wondering why he cared what they thought. The captain turned from him and addressed the doctor again.

"Are you certain that the entire crew has been affected?" Holdfast demanded.

"Absolutely," Cleftplate replied. "Those who weren't initially infected by the spilled energon form the fight have all taken at least one ration of the contaminated energon from the dispensers.

"Didn't I hear that they were working on a treatment?"

"The healers have been working on a treatment since the plague was first unleashed," Cleftplate snapped. "There is none for the virus proper. But," she hesitated and glanced at the Decepticon with a frown.

"But?" Holdfast prompted.

"There was a tonic," she muttered. "I could have it synthesized in a matter of clicks. It's too slow acting to be useful against the virus proper but it was known to be effective on the carrier versions."

Holdfast stood stock still for a moment. There wasn't an Autobot online who hadn't lost somebot close to the plague. All too well he remembered watching loved ones succumb to the virus. That awful specter haunted the memory banks of most of his crew. His optics traveled to the Decepticon. When the word spread around the ship resentment would no doubt be turned on the mech and his brothers.

"Are the escape pods secure?" the captain suddenly demanded.

"Yes," Cleftplate responded with a frown of confusion. "The pods are on a separate energon flow system from the rest of the ship."

"Give it to them," the captain suddenly ordered.

The miner blinked in surprise and confusion as the officer stormed out of the sickbay. The CMO quickly and efficiently moved about her lab as the walls unfolded around her to form various machines. She finally approached him with a vial of glowing gold liquid. The Decepticon instinctively flinched away. Cleftplate smiled at him reassuringly and spoke soothingly. She explained that he had been infected by a virus and she needed to give him and his crew the antidote. His processor whirred as the mech simultaneously tried to understand and reject the situation. Obedience however was well trained into him and he finally accepted the serum and opened his chestplates so she could inoculate the scouts as well. He felt the healing burn and was relieved when the Autobot left to administer it to the rest of his crew.

Shortly thereafter two bulky security bots came in and escorted him to an escape pod. The white miner felt over the gestalt bond that his brothers were similarly transferred. He felt the pods detach from the ship and fall to the ground, felt the movement that meant the pods were being buried. The deep stasis protocols activated around him and the miner relaxed a bit as a wave of relief passed through the bond. They were going to be incarcerated in stasis. A data packet pinged against his CPU with instructions that it be opened when the crew awoke from hibernation. The mech acknowledged it as his awareness slipped away into blissful darkness.

O

O

"Will they have a chance?" Holdfast asked as the ship prepared to launch.

The tale-tale spider web pattern of the plague was spreading across his faceplates. Cleftplate stood calmly beside him watching the crew moving about their tasks. She had done as much as she could to alleviate their suffering but the healer was bot enough to admit it was the captain's plan that allowed them to work through the pain more than any of the palliatives she had administered. She turned her processor away from the preparations for a moment and considered his question.

"They are strong and the carrier virus is far milder in affect than the fully active version," she explained patiently. "The stasis pods will slow its advance further. The tonic should be enough to cure them."

"Good," the captain murmured softly. "They will have a second chance away from the war, away from those who would force them to fight. Primus bless them in their new life on this world. At least some good will come out of this interaction."

"Did you give them the instructions to pass the message about the traitor on to Prime if an Autobot ship ever passes this way again?" Hardstrike asked coming up behind his fellow officers.

The captain turned and shook his helm.

"No," he replied ruefully. "There's being compassionate and then there's being stupid. I'm not handing that kind of information over to any Decepticon no matter what I think of them personally. I left a message with the captain of the human ship along with a copy of our logs downloaded on the communicator I gave him. He has instructions to only hand it over only to Prime himself."

"But it may be millennia before another Autobot ship even reaches this planet," Hardstrike said in confusion.

"Yes, but on analyzing the rate of this planets advancement it will only be a few centuries before they develop space flight," the captain explained. "The message has a decent chance of getting to Prime and if not, well, it's not like we have very many options."

The proximity alarms began to blare and the officers took up their battle stations. The _Viper _filled the forward view screen. Neither ship was in any shape to do battle; one badly damaged the other under-crewed. The Autobot vessel rose rapidly through the atmosphere, sliding in every direction and casting false images around itself. The _Viper _observed the rapid ascent and came about to face her opponent. Dreadlock grinned fiercely on the dark bridge. His spark thrilled at the prospect of a final battle with his old nemesis. It would just be so un-poetic for the Autobot warrior to die of the plague.

The battle was joined. The Decepticon ship launched a barrage of EMP missiles at ghosting images. As each of the projectiles exploded one of the false spacecraft flickered and disappeared. Each time another was generated but the combat computer carefully analyzed the pattern of emergence and within clicks presented a likely vector to Dreadlock.

"Percussion mines!" the Decepticon ordered.

The explosives were ejected from the viper and roared down towards the Autobot vessel. Hardstrike saw them coming and ordered full power to the engines. Instead of taking evasive maneuvers they surged straight up into the swarm of oncoming mines; and into the thinner atmosphere of higher altitude. The proximity fuses on the mines detonated when the ship came into range, showering the hull with shrapnel. Without the thicker lower atmosphere to transmit the main force of the blast however, the effect was minimized. Still alarms began to scream out over the Autobot vessel warning of ruptured energon lines; more than the captain had anticipated. A frown creased his otherwise impassive face as he sifted through the data the battle computer was feeding him.

"Hardstrike, you have the bridge," he finally said.

The first officer looked about to protest but stopped when he locked optics with his captain. In that look they understood each other. Either of them could execute the simple battle plan but the ship had to be in top form to survive long enough to complete it. It would be some time before the ships would be close enough for their plan to work. The captain had for more engineering training then his EXO and every servo would be needed below repairing the energon ruptures. Hardstrike turned back to the command deck.

"Prepare to fire plasma torpedoes on my mark!" he ordered.

Holdfast raced down the corridors passing crewmechs calmly aiding the auto repair systems. The stress of the rapid ascent and the concussion grenades had ruptured numerous energon lines throughout the ship. Under normal circumstances the ship's own internal diagnostics would have proved more than sufficient to repair the damage, but now it was taking every able-framed mech to keep her in space. Able-framed being a relative term the captain mused as he passed two one armed crewmechs working together to repair a particularly bad breach. He paused long enough to touch them reassuringly before making for the next location the diagnostic subroutines had indicated as a priority.

The next few cycles passed in a blur of ruptured energon lines and frantic repairs. He felt the ship strain and flex as Hardstrike jockeyed to get her as close as possible. Holdfast's vision was fading from the virus and he had simply offlined most of his pain receptors by the time he felt the vibrations that indicated Hardstrike had initiated the final step in the plan. A satisfied smile spread over the captain's faceplates as the engines gave a terrible roar. He let the spanners slip from his numb servos and slumped against the corridor bulkhead as a shockwave rattled the hull. He was dimly aware of the alarms blaring signaling the proximity of a gravity well. Then everything went dark.

O

O

On the bridge Hardstrike was engaged in a deadly game of cybercat and glitchmouse. He needed to get the ship close to the _Viper_. Far too close. True the Autobot vessel did have superior shielding and armor to the Decepticon ship, but Dreadlock had access to more powerful short range weapons. Closer and closer the Autobot EXO pushed the battle.

On the Bridge of the _Viper _the Decepticon captain cursed over the displays. He could tell from the attack pattern that he wasn't fighting Holdfast. Was the Autobot injured? And what game were they playing at? There could be no point to pushing the _Viper _so hard. It might be a suicide run but if this kept up the Decepticon vessel's superior weapons would surely win the battle, leaving the world below ripe for the picking. Was the Plague affecting their judgment already?

Suddenly Dreadlock stiffened as realization hit him too late. The entire array of aft thrusters was dilating at once on the Autobot vessel. They were purging their fuel reserves; right on top of the _Viper_; a daring move, a desperate move. The highly unstable energon based fuel ejected from the open thrusters in a wave of painfully bright light. It seemed to crawl over the Decepticon vessel but in reality it was spreading far too fast to react to. Dreadlock opened his mouth to scream out an order but a blinding light filled the bridge and the ship began to tear itself apart. It was small consolation that the backlash of derbies would no doubt destroy the Autobot craft as well.

O

O

Far below on the deck of the HMS Resolution a man watched the two ships battle through his most powerful telescope. Though his entire lifespan was only a blink in time compared to the beings who battled above, by his own people's standards he was already old; too old to be out exploring the great unknown, but promises of glory and money had lured him out one last time. As he watched the deadly dance in the purple sky however he felt younger than he had in years. Suddenly the strange vessel he knew to carry his new found friend and fellow captain belched white fire. He turned away and blinked the afterimages form his strained eyes as the glare filled the heavens for a moment. The dog watch lookout gasped and shouted to call the crew's attention to the new star that blossomed in the pale Arctic sky.

"Captain Cook sir," a respectful voice spoke softly from the lower deck. "What are your orders?"

The Captain signaled for silence. Without looking up the older man snatched up his sextant and began to track the decent of the new star. Frantically he wrote down a series of numbers. In the interest of recording the exact decent of the known ship he decided to ignore the on minuscule point of light that had escaped from the enemy vessel moments before its destruction. When the light finally disappeared over the eastern horizon he let out a sad sigh and looked mournfully at his subordinate.

"They will most likely crash in the greater Asian sub-continent, in the Gobi desert perhaps. A good ship, a good crew, and an excellent captain have been lost this day," the old man said softly.

The lieutenant shifted a bit nervously. He had seen the odd creatures the captain had befriended and found them rather disconcerting. Not that he was afraid of them exactly. Holdfast was obviously friendly, but travelers from the stars really had no place in the orderly life of a British officer.

"For the next several days, perhaps weeks we will cease our endeavors to locate the Northwest Passage. According to the last instructions of Captain Holdfast we will secure hiding places underground for the cubes of solid electricity. Each and every man must be made to swear an oath of absolute secrecy. Lieutenant Bligh," the old man ordered with a deep sadness in his voice, "we stood for a very short time in the presence of beings who could have been of great aid to us. Now they have given their lives in defense of our homes, the homes of all humanity. Their Captain presumed that we should meet them again but I fear he had little understanding of the true length of our lifespans. I will do everything within my power to fulfill his last request but it will most likely be my far descendant who will bear the honor of delivering his message to this Prime."

O

O

Badly damaged by the backlash of the destruction of the _Viper_ the Autobot vessel slid into Earth's gravity well one last time. It had been Holdfast's hope that both ships would be destroyed, ridding the innocent system of the pathogen. But the mechs who had designed the vessel he commanded had built it to last, and the Autobot still did not fully know her limits. Smaller docking thrusters fired automatically, compensating for the comatose and dying crew. It was just enough to level the craft out and turn what would have been a lovely impact crater into an eighty mile long skid mark in the desert sand, ending with the ship laying torn open under the stars.

The decent did not go unnoticed. No less than three astronomers in China and Japan calculated her path and probable landing. Their notes sit in the museums to this day, nearly forgotten and completely ignored. Nomads looked up and the sky as the apparition roared over head and prayed for protection. Someone might have gone to investigate.

But immediately after the crash, while smoke plumes still rose and the ship groaned as it settled into the sands, an eerie singing started up as if maidens were softly calling to the dead crew. The ship called out in its own way; an automatic distress signal broadcasted out to the stars. But there was no one there to hear it and soon the Gobi erased all traces. With a ping a single grain of sand struck the burning hull, then another, and another. Soon the desert wind had grown into a sandstorm and whipped the dunes around the craft into their slow ageless dance. Imperceptibly the singing sands of the Gobi crept up the side of the ship inch by inch. By the time the blue planet had rotated twice the storm had died and the desert had claimed yet another secret.

O

O

Time passed, one hundred years, two hundred and more, but had no meaning for the ghost ship that lay underneath the ever shifting dunes. The winds of the alien world danced this way and that, until finally chance, or something more uncovered the vessel again. Once more the automated call for help reached out form the contaminated ship, but this time it was noticed.

O

O

In the dark outer hull of the Autobot vessel a brilliant orange light flared to life on the curved bulkhead. A shower of sparks fell to the tilted walkway. The light traveled in an arc and returned to its original position. With a sound of rending metal the section of the ship was pushed away to admit the pale desert moonlight, and a lanky red and blue form. A second slightly smaller form followed him into the passageway.

"If they traveled in stasis mode there may be survivors," a rough voice opinioned as they activated hand lights.

The ship shifted and lurched as their considerable weight moved forward. Both forms crouched, bracing against the bulkheads, and waited for the sands to settle again before approaching a sealed hatch. The angular door way was forced open by the larger of the companions. They strode through the aperture and paused as their lights fell on the still forms that had once been Captain Holdfast and his crew, still lying next to cold half-repaired energon lines.

Blue optics glowed fiercely as the red and blue mech stared down at the death around him. He was far to experienced a warrior to be shocked by what he saw, but his spark still ached at the loss. They were too late to be of any use here. He shook his helm in frustration and disappointment.

"Optimus!" the rough voice suddenly called out with urgency a trace of horror in its tone. The Prime turned the light towards where Ratchet crouched over one of the fallen. "These Autobots didn't perish in the crash." The medic stated as he rose and faced the leader of the Autobots. "They're displaying the effects of a Virus!"

"This is a plague ship," Optimus Prime stated heavily.


	6. Perspective

Driver 6

Perspective

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Perspective is a funny thing. The unimportant speck of light that Cook observed detach from the _Viper_ drifted away from the blue planet. Unimportant to one officer on the deck of a ship; it was life and safety to another that lay within it. For many light-years the lone passenger was far too occupied with simply keeping the badly damaged escape pod functional to think about anything else. But eventually every repair that could be made was, and she was left with nothing to do but wait until the battered craft reached the nearest planet with a space port; which, by her best calculations, would be at least fifty stellar-cycles.

Airachnid crouched in the vessel glaring at the stasis pod resentfully. All six on the craft had been too badly damaged by the Autobots' last gambit to function and her own internal stasis generator was glitching. It was going to be a long ride. She shifted her limbs, trying to find a comfortable position. Her ebony hide was fractured in dozens of places and occasional spark shot out of a damaged joint. To top everything off there was a dull ache just below her spark. Internal diagnostics kept assuring the femme that her spark chamber was fine.

"You are lonely," a young white mech said, softly smiling at her.

With a startled hiss the spiderbot stiffened and shuttered her optics rapidly. She was alone in the pod. It was too small and cramped to hide a glitchmouse, let alone the bulky mech she had just seen. Shaking her helm she settled back down to conserve energon. It must have just been a creation of her overwrought processor. But the words nagged at her.

Lonely? The femme scoffed at the idea. She had never experienced such an emotion. It was a foreign concept to her. As an assassin, interrogator, and spy for the Decepticons all her work was done alone.

"But you cannot deny that you are now, Beloved," the soft voice assured her.

The Decepticon gave a scream this time. He couldn't be there; sitting across from her, leaning forward with his arms resting on his leg armor, silver optics glowing up at her with trust.

"You are dead," Airachnid screeched, pressing back against the bulkhead. "The Autobots, they killed you!"

The apparition vanished again as quickly as it had come. She was going space mad. That had to be it; damaged and alone in a tiny craft the isolation was eating at her processor. How long had it been? She checked her internal chronometer to find that not even a full stellar-cycle had passed since the _Viper _had been destroyed.

"You don't have to be you know."

"What was that my love?" Airachnid asked absently as she lounged in front of her computer consol watching data spill past.

They were together in her quarters on the _Domination_. The rest of the gestalt was below decks but she had convinced the white miner to travel with her. Not that it had required much convincing, the black femme thought smugly as she turned her optics from the display of the planet they were assigned to harvest to the comely form of the powerful mech leaning against the curved wall. He always did what she wanted. It was a little frightening the power she held over him.

"I said," he continued with a shy smile, "you don't have to be lonely."

"And who exactly," the spiderbot inquired as she rose and stretched languorously, "had the nerve to claim that I was lonely?"

"I just know it," the mech asserted beaming with innocence and kindness. "I can see how you feel just as well as if you were a part of my gestalt. You are lonely whenever I am not with you, but we can fix that."

"We can?" she added special emphasis to the 'we'.

"Yes, me and my gestalt can," the burly miner assured her. He glanced nervously around the chamber. "Are we being monitored?" he asked.

Airachind made a show of activating the signal scrambler, wondering again as she did how it didn't affect the gestalt bond. When she was done the femme beckoned the white mech closer. He slipped noiselessly to her side and whispered excitedly.

"There is a secret about my gestalt class that was never told to anybot. Not even Lord Megatron knows."

She immediately perked up. Well did she know the value of a secret.

"But you have to give me your word you won't tell anyone," he was continuing earnestly.

The other Decepticon smiled sweetly and pulled the mech closer to her frame. He nuzzled in happily.

"I give you my word," she purred in his audio-receptor. "I won't tell a spark."

"My gestalt can accept new members," the miner whispered proudly as if he had just laid the matrix of leadership itself at her peds.

"Well, that is certainly interesting information," the spider bot stated, letting a look of confusion spread across her faceplates too hide the board disappointment she flet, "but how does that keep me from being lonely?"

"Join us!" the miner whispered urgently. "You will never be alone again. The others agree. They love you nearly as much as I do. I have already helped you reformat for drilling," he motioned to the shining new additions on her thorax, "and taught you everything I can about mining. You would be perfectly compatible." The mech looked like he would have gone on indefinitely.

Airachnid gently laid one servo against his lips.

"But I only want you my love," she crooned. "I don't care about the others. You are special, unique."

The miner let out a hearty laugh at that.

"You just do not understand yet," he assured her. "I am exactly like nine of my brothers and very close to the rest. If you love me you will love them."

"But how would we even do this?"

The mech took a step back and smiled deeply. Slowly and deliberately he triggered the releases on his chest armor. They slid back to reveal his spark chamber. Airachnid stood there shocked by the intimate gesture. Of course she knew the silly mech thought they were close, but not that close.

"Spark bond with me," he was saying, "and we will always be there for you. You will never be lonely again."

The femme snapped back to the present with a string of curses. The memories were too real. She couldn't distinguish them from reality anymore. She focused her optics on the empty crash berth opposite her. It was empty, she reassured herself. The cursed miner and his gestalt were dead on the planet behind her. Empty…

Her spark chamber felt empty. Two energon baths had failed to cleanse the organic stench from the world they had just harvested. The cargo holds of the _Domination_ were full to overflowing as were the holds of the rest of the fleet. Faster than light the ships sped back to Cybertron to replenish the dwindling resources of the Decepticon military. They couldn't flee the planet fast enough to escape the things she had done. The information she had obtained was needed she kept telling herself. It had only been inferior organics.

The femme felt a sudden longing for the comforting arms of the white mech. She stepped eagerly into her quarters only to find them empty. In annoyance she pinged his comm. A message came back. He was below comforting his gestalt. They had lost more than one mech to the resistance the natives had put up. More than that she could sense the overwhelming guilt they felt. She had not been the only one to do things that pushed her comfort envelope.

She sent a message detailing her loneliness and need for companionship, expecting the miner to come immediately. However he sent back a message offering her a place down in the hold, detailing how wonderful it would be with all of his brothers to help comfort her. She snarled back over the comm. that she wasn't leaving her quarters and broke the communication line. The lovely little illusion she had held regarding her supposed control over the mech shattered and left uncomfortable shards in her processor. She sat slumped on the berth sulking the rest of the journey to Cybertron, resentment growing in her spark, fueled by the feeling of isolation. The temptation to go down to the hold waxed and waned as pride battled with loneliness. Pride won. When the mech finally did come to her quarters he was met with a closed portal and a silent comm. line.

She was alone. Another stellar-cycle had ticked by. By now she welcomed the hallucinations. Remembering him as he was before the trust had shattered. They had both been young and naive. But she had grown to accept the truth that Megatron offered. They were a superior form of life. The organics that fell beneath their might were barely worth remembering. He and that cursed gestalt had never understood that and in the end it had destroyed them. It had separated him from her, and she was alone…

"Why?" there was such pain in his silver optics as he held the broken body of the little scout close to his chest plates. "Why did you do it?" She felt an unfamiliar stab of guilt. With a scream the spiderbot cam back to herself; back to the cold interior of the survival pod.

"Stop it!" she screamed out into the thin atmosphere. But it didn't stop.

O

O

Regulon Four space dock, forty-eight solar cycles later.

To her surprise there were no Cybertronian craft of any sort at the transport hub when she arrived. Had there been, she would have been immediately whisked away for a psych evaluation. In exchange for the battered remains of her craft the local medics had fixed up her frame. The damage done to her processor by the stellar cycles of isolation; well, no one on the space station would even have recognized it let alone know how to treat it.

She arranged to serve as communications officer on an organic scout ship in exchange for transport back to Decepticon territory. Two solar cycles out of the dock and she was the only living creature on the ship. Three solar cycles and the apparitions had started again. In frustration she decapitated the body of the previous commander and mounted the head, long tentacles and all, in the corner that the white mech appeared in most often.

For awhile it worked. But soon he simply began to manifest in other corners; silver optics glowing at her accusingly. She diverted to another planet to procure another head. She enjoyed the hunting and it did seem to banish the white mech's ghost temporarily at least. As time passed and she raided planet after planet the original reason for the hunt receded into the recesses of her twisted processor, the badly damaged memory engrams were partially repaired by her internal processes but it would take a skilled Cybertronian healer indeed to bring them all back, and returning to the Decepticons had lost its luster. Living planet to planet, stealing or trading for what she needed was a far more satisfying lifestyle than kowtowing to whatever megalomaniac claimed leadership of the faction.

So it was that the exact location of the planet she had fled remained occulted in her memory; not gone, but not available to her conscience processor. Perhaps it was that half-memory that drew her to the planet labeled FE-2345g in the Cybertronian data log she 'acquired' from that freighter. It was close and boasted a population of organics just barely capable of providing her recently damaged ship with the needed materials for repairs.

The ship landed hard in a heavily forested region of the planet leaving a long skid mark. Airachnid immediately cast an interception field around her vessel. The femme set out first to scout for materials to repair her damaged ship before beginning the hunt and found several promising factories to raid when a familiar signal caught her attention.

"An Autobot?" she murmured wearily.


	7. Surrender

Driver 7

Surrender

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Rafael Esquivel woke to the wonderful smell of frying tortillas. He rolled over smiling and padded his hand around for his glasses on the shelf. The twelve year old slid out of the lower bunk and hurried to get dressed. When he was done he pushed up on the top bunk until his older brother gave a grunt of acknowledgment. The brown eyed boy then just barely restrained himself from running down the hall to the kitchen.

Golden light from the rising sun illuminated the well loved room. As he'd expected his sister Pilar was at the stove standing on her stool to properly reach the gleaming black cast-iron frying pan. He made a quick grab at one of the golden brown tubes laying in a perfect row on Grandma's second best platter. Smack! A wooden spoon came down on his hand just hard enough to let him know that his sister had spotted him.

"No way! You know the rules!" Pilar stated firmly, but there was a proud grin on her face. Her little brother never tried to snatch anyone else's fajitas.

Raf made a show of carefully washing his hands and selecting a plate from the cupboard. He trotted up to the pretty girl standing in front of the stove and held up the ceramic circle.

"May I please have two fajitas sister dearest; who got up at an unearthly hour to cook for her hungry family?"

What might have been a small snort of laughter came from behind a copy of the _Phoenix Sun_ but both siblings ignored it.

"Why yes you may brother dear," Pilar replied sweetly. The girl deftly swept two up on her spatula and deposited them on the raised plate. Then she picked up a handy quart jar of golden liquid and poured a generous serving of her secret sauce over them.

"Thank you Pilar!" Raf called out as he carefully stepped towards the front door.

"You're welcome Rafie," she replied already turning her attention to the line of siblings forming at the stove.

Raf settled down on the sunny front steps to wait for Bumblebee while he enjoyed his breakfast. The yellow and black sports car was supposed to pick him up a little later than usual this Saturday because Fowler had called them out last night on a special mission. The boy had just eaten the last mouth watering bite of the meal when he heard the clock inside strike the hour. He glanced in surprise at the display on his phone. A little pang of fear rose in the back of his mind, which he quickly banished. Bee was late sometimes. It didn't mean anything was wrong. He hit the speed dial for his friend's comm. line. His heart rate quickened as the phone rang three then four times and felt a rush of relief when his friend's voice came over the device.

*Raf! I am so sorry I forgot to call you! You will not believe what has happened. I can't talk right now but it's big! And sorry but you probably can't come to the base for awhile,* on that apologetic note the Cybertronian scout cut the connection.

Raf stared at his phone in surprise. His agile mind was racing with a host of questions. Finally he shook his head and reminded himself that as much as it felt like a clubhouse most of the time; Autobot Base Omega was a military outpost and sometimes things happened. He headed in to put his plate back on the counter.

Just before he left the kitchen to challenge his brother to a video game match an excited voice came from the living room. He followed the noise to find his Mama smiling in a worried fashion at his oldest sister who was holding the phone. She was just finishing up when he came in and he caught the tail end of an emotional goodbye.

"What was that all about?" he asked curiously.

"Cousin Pedro is to be married tomorrow!" the young woman enthused scooping up her little brother and spinning him around the room.

"He finally asked Selene?" Raf managed to gasp out. His phone was buzzing but he figured it was only Miko calling to complain about being banned from the base. This was real news! Pedro de Lance was actually a distant cousin but he had been raised as one of the Esquivel family. His mother and Raf's Mama had been great friends and when she died in childbirth Pedro had grown even closer to Mrs. Esquivel. After his father had been killed in a mining accident he had come to live with the young couple and their first child. Now he was generally known to be everyone's favorite brother. He had gone north to Canada to find work in the mines several years ago and the monthly letters detailing his adventures in mining and love were a highlight in their house.

"That lead-footed boy?" his sister scoffed. "No, she asked him! And he has a new job at that fancy -shmancy mine that is opening up in that one providence."

"Provence," her mother corrected absently.

"What's the matter Mama?" Raf inquired, seeing the ghost of fear that was haunting her face.

The mother smiled down at the boy and shook her head.

"It is nothing my sweet," she assured him. "You would laugh if I told you, very unscientific. Just something an old wise woman said to me once."

The news spread like wildfire and soon preparations for gifts were being made. The bustle distracted Raf from worrying about Bee for most of the day. Miko had called and text messaged several times but as they were all complaints that really required no response Raf simply set one of his robot programs to give appropriate responses. But when Jack suggested meeting at his house for some gaming and snacks the boy jumped on the prospect. His cousin's upcoming nuptials were news that needed to be shared.

O

O

"That's wonderful Raf," June Darby exclaimed as she poured the two boys lemonade.

"Do they plan to start a family?" Jack asked eagerly. He had become very interested in such things after raising his own sparklings.

Raf nodded and took a deep drink before answering.

"Yes, they want a big family."

Miko suddenly burst in through the back door without knocking. She let out an exaggerated scream of frustration and threw herself down on the couch. Jack and Raf jerked their glasses up to avoid spilling them as she landed across their laps.

"This is sooooo unfair," she wailed. "Bulk won't even give me a hint about what is going on."

"Don't take it hard Miko," Jack tried to sooth the slim Asian girl, patting her shoulder."It's probably just some bigwigs from the government coming to inspect the base."

"No way!" the girl protested as she rearranged herself to snatch up one of the cookies on the coffee table. "Bulk was too excited for that. You know how ticked he gets with stupid stuff. Besides, I called Ratchet. If it was just bureaucrats he would have bitten my head off and he barely said anything. He was distracted, like when someone is hurt and he needs to concentrate."

Raf and Jack glanced at each other nervously, then up at June. The woman's smile was completely unperturbed as she came over with a stack of board games.

"I am certain that if anyone was injured Ratchet would have called me for assistance," she pointed out. "He always does on my day off."

Even Miko had to admit the logic in that.

"Now," the mother continued, "who wants to challenge the reining Pictureka champ?"

They were deep in the game when June's cell phone rang. Jack grimaced. At this time of day a call nearly always meant she was needed for an extra shift at the hospital. From the look on his mom's face that was what she was expecting as well. But surprise flickered across her eyes as she answered.

"Of course Optimus," she was saying calmly, making her the immediate focus of the entire room. "We'll be there in ten minutes."

"Optimus needs to speak to all of us," she stated firmly, forestalling any questions. "We are going to meet him at the warehouse. Clean up this mess and we'll leave in my car."

The children were bursting with questions but obeyed. When the dishes were done Jack slid into the driver's seat of his mother's white sedan, Miko and Raf scrambled into the back, and June slipped in beside her son. Several minutes later they arrived at the sprawling abandoned warehouse where the children hung out with the Autobots when not on base. Jack pulled the car into the building to find the leader of the Autobots waiting for them. Once the outer door was closed the mech transformed and sat cross-legged before the humans.

"Nurse Darby," he began gravely, "Jack, Raf, Miko I must apologize for keeping you away from the base and in the dark for so long. A unique situation arose in the early hours of the morning that has required all of our attention and I deemed it safest for you to remain away from the silo for the time being."

"What is it?" Miko demanded, scampering brashly up onto his lap. Optimus looked down at her in bemusement but June caught the hint of a smile around his optics. "Bulk wouldn't tell me anything."

"Miko," the nurse silenced the girl with a word. "Optimus please continue."

"Yesterday afternoon in the Village of St. Mary's, Alaska a Decepticon surrendered to the local human law enforcement. We are currently holding him in confinement in the base."

For a second the humans stood shocked. Miko was the first to respond as usual. She rocked back on the mech's knee and stared up at his faceplates in astonishment.

"You brought a Con back to base? Are you glitching or something? Or have you already forgotten the whole Screamer thing?"

"Miko!" Jack hissed furiously at the implication but the Prime only shifted the impetuous child to a safer perch.

"No Miko," the Autobot corrected her gently. "I have not forgotten. But the situation here is far different." Optimus shifted his gaze to the adult human and continued to address the rest of them. "He was not captured but surrendered to the human authorities of his own free will. The mech in question has an extremely plausible story and I am inclined to believe his intentions are simply as he states them. However until we enact certain safety measures you children will remain away from the base."

There was a firmness in his voice that booked no argument and June suddenly understood why he had come himself instead of simply letting each Autobot relay the news to their human charges. The restriction would cause the children great frustration. This way by they would have worked it out of their systems and perhaps taken it out on the handy Prime by the time they met up with their respective guardians. After a bit of obligatory whining on Miko's part Jack managed to distract her and lead the girl away. Raf lingered a bit as he watched his friends walk towards the far end of the hanger.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked looking up at the Prime.

"Yes, Raf," the Prime replied seriously. "I believe that your services may prove invaluable in time but for now I need to speak privately with Mrs. Darby."

The small human nodded with a glow of pleasure lighting up his face at the compliment and trotted over to join his friends. Optimus transformed and opened his passenger door. He proffered a seatbelt to help the nurse up which she politely accepted. The Autobot rolled out of the warehouse and into the moonless Nevada night.

"Mrs. Darby," he began slowly, "how is Jack doing?"

The nurse frowned slightly. On the one hand it was perfectly normal for the Prime to take her aside and ask after her son. Apart from considering Jack to be one of his charges the Autobot had apparently developed a more personal interest in his wellbeing over the course of their adventures. But there was something in his tone that suggested this was more than the usual checkup.

"As far as I know he is doing fine," June replied curiously. "Given everything that happened he is recovering emotionally as fast as can be expected. Did you have anything specifically in processor?"

The Autobot was quiet for a moment.

"It regards the mech we are currently holding prisoner," he began. "He is of a unique caste. Like many of the stronger forms his kind was dedicated to mining and underground work but unlike those individuals they came out of the Well of Allsparks linked, capable of merging not only physical forms but mental processes and emotions as well. The strength of the bond between such mechs was legendary. The term used by scientists was multi-gestalt. They were capable of fusing in a near infinite number of combinations. While each member was an individual they functioned as one organism." The mech paused to let the deluge of information sink in.

June nodded for him to go on still confused but following.

"The number of individuals per unit varied, this mech came from one of the largest known classes. There were a thousand members in his multi-gestalt originally. When the war came such units were eagerly sought by both sides though they rarely cared for political factions of any sort, spending most of their time out of communication with the majority of Cybertron, deep under the crust. The Decepticons captured many, forcing them to do their bidding." Optimus debated whether or not to mentions the legends that associated the miner-multi-gestalts with the more mythical aspects of Cybertron's underworld but decided against it. There was much to be said and so little time. "But they had a great weakness. All an opposing faction had to do was capture one individual and the entire gestalt would be hostages. The bonds were so close that whatever one felt so did the others. Oftentimes separated from their unit, their family, weaker individuals would simply offline from the stress. The mech we are currently holding is strong…"

"But if he willingly surrendered it means he is the last of his family," June said in understanding, finally beginning to see where the Autobot was going.

"Yes, and while it is unlikely that the mech will deliberately offline himself I doubt he has much time left before he joins his brothers once more."

June let out a small sound of pain and leaned her forehead against the steering wheel as the full implications hit her.

"A lonely mech with a tragic past suffering a slow, lingering, but inventible death," she whispered. Given his gentle nature Jack would no doubt be the first to try and reach out to the Cybertronian, to comfort him, and when the end came? She drew in a ragged breath.

"Jack is strong," she said firmly. "He will be able to handle it."

"Indeed," there was something warm, almost proud, in the Prime's voice. "I have had more than one occasion to witness your son's strength. Still, perhaps it would be wise to monitor him closely as they interact. I would also consider increasing his workload somewhat, to keep him busy."

June nodded in understanding. Her son was still healing from losing the sparklings. It would not be wise to give him too much time to dwell on another death so soon.

"You have far more experience with this sort of situation than I do Optimus," the nurse said, reaching out to squeeze the armrest gratefully. "Thank you for your advice."

"Now the second matter," The Prime said as he engaged his engine and rolled out under the starry sky. "Am I correct in assuming that you would like to meet our guest before exposing the children to him?"

"Of course," she stated firmly.

O

O

The battered white mech sat cross-legged in the corner of the dark room. He was still weak from energon depletion. The local atmosphere rushed loudly through the small vents. It would have bothered him once; such an inefficient system, something so easy to fix, but now he only lay and waited for the Prime to finish him. After so long, so much pain he was finally alone. It still didn't seem quite real. He found himself again and again reaching out over the gestalt bond and then recoiling at what he knew he would, or rather wouldn't feel. It was comfort at least that his brothers would no longer suffer.

That line of thought was interrupted as he sensed one of the Autobots coming closer; the medic. Did the Prime delegate his executions? Optimus Prime's weakness had been loudly and often mocked in the Decepticon forces but that was not the impression the miner had gotten in their brief encounter. A frown crossed the mech's faceplates as he listened more closely to the approaching ped falls.

There was another, much smaller than the medic. It stepped lightly, near soundlessly, almost as if the minerals of the planet's crust were absorbing its presence. Despite the dull ache that had consumed him since he had acknowledged that he would never see his brothers again in this life the mech felt curious. He spread his servos out over the metal bars that crisscrossed the floor and let the sensitive sensors absorb the information.

"No Nurse Darby," the medic was speaking in the native dialect, "there is certainly no chance he could be falsifying the readings. He is indeed the last of his gestalt unit. I checked the feedback signals myself." The mech felt a quick stab of discomfort but squelched it as the Autobot continued. "I am glad you chose to come. He may be more willing to accept medical treatment from a healer who is not from the opposing faction. So far he has shown some reluctance to accept such from me." "

I will be glad to offer any assistance I can Ratchet," a soft sweet voice spoke up as they approached his door. The mech ended his surveillance when he heard the locking mechanism triggered.


	8. Different Perspectives

Driver 8

Different Perspectives

A Transformers Prime FanFiction

Ratchet noted the changed attitude of the Decepticon mech. When the medic and Optimus had first seen the white Cybertronian standing beside Agent Johnson in the little Alaskan bush village his silver optics had been all but dead. There was no fear or anger in them as the human had handed him over to the Autobots. Ratchet had found that utter lack of emotion to be disturbing to stay the least. Event the vehicons were defiant when captured. That blank look had stayed with the mech as they had decided his fate and prepared his cell.

Even with the reinforcements Ratchet suspected that the miner could escape if he was determined enough. But there was an old saying at the Iacon Hall of Science; 'there is never one of a gestalt.' Once the final bond was severed death was only a matter of time. All he could hope to do was ease the mech's pain as he passed.

But now something was different. The dead look had left the white mech's optics for a moment as he studied the human woman. Ratchet felt a surge of interest in the medical change and a rush of possessiveness at the same time. Instinctively he placed himself between the Decepticon and his human charge.

"Nurse Darby will be assisting me in tending to your needs," he said with a bit more aggression in his voice than he intended. "You WILL treat her with the same respect you do me."

"Of course," the mech responded not taking his optics off the human. "You are native to this planet Nurse Darby?"

"Yes I am," she responded with a smile stepping around Ratchet's leg. She rested a reassuring hand on the medic's leg as she moved to approach the Decepticon her nurse's training taking over. The mech's mesh was literally covered in scars. She had thought Optimus was torn up but she could not see a single place on this Decepticon where she could rest her palm flat without touching the proof of at least three old injuries.

To the Decepticon's surprise she didn't immediately turn on the scanner she held loosely in one hand, but rather approached him and looked searchingly up into his optics. The white mech shifted a bit uncomfortably.

"I am June Darby," she introduced herself softly. "What is your designation?"

"I am a miner lead mech 7.3," he said dully. The brief interest was fading from his optics now.

"You don't have a name?" June asked curiously.

The mech simply shook his helm.

"Well, miner lead mech 7.3 is a bit of a mouthful for a human," the nurse mused out loud. "Tell me, what was your function in the gestalt?" She instantly regretted the question. A look of such pain flashed across his face at the mention of his unit that the woman thought she would break down and cry. But he answered immediately and succinctly.

"Originally my function was to oversee smaller operations and expedite work. As more of the higher level mechs were killed I assumed more responsibilities."

"So, you weren't the main boss but were the driving force behind getting the work done on the site," June mused as she examined his faceplates. "Would you mind if I call you Driver?"

The White mech tilted his rounded helm listlessly to one side and regarded her.

"If you want to," he finally said flatly.

Ratchet couldn't help but feel a spark of pride in his human apprentice. Neither he nor Optimus had been able to engage the damaged mech on any level and the woman had walked in here and gotten him to accept a name within minutes. She proceeded to give the mech a through exam. Ratchet stood back and observed quietly. With a part of his processor he silently critiqued her performance, noting where she had improved and where she could still use improvement for future discussion over tea.

But the majority of his processing power was devoted to observing the Decepticon. Tucked unobtrusively in the medics servos was a small directional EMP generator. At the slightest sign of a threat to his human he planned to knock the mech out for a week. He trusted Optimus's judgment to be certain, and the Autobot leader had cleared this but that was no reason to be careless.

The white mech was a conundrum. There had been Decepticon defectors over the eons. Some had merely had the common sense to realize that life expectancy in the Decepticon ranks was rather short, some had simply become disillusioned with Megatron and his lies, but Driver was different somehow. Even in his lethargic state he was constantly mindful of June's presence; not as if he was afraid of retribution for accidently harming her, or even out of revulsion at her presence, a common enough reaction to organics among Decepticons and some Autobots the medic had to admit. No, the red and white mech mused as he watched the two interact. The white mech treated her like she was something precious that he didn't want to break. He treated her with respect; something the medic had never seen a Decepticon do far a weaker creature. Ratchet reviewed the morning's events in his processor.

He had been giving the lab its usual Saturday morning cleanup. The medic liked to have anything and everything explosive, sharp, or poisonous out of a certain girl's line of sight before the children arrived for the weekend. He had noted a direct correlation between the amount of free time the children had available and the level of destruction the caused, an observation June confirmed. Ratchet was just giving his workspace a last satisfied onceover when the comm. unit had blared out Agent Fowler's tone. With a sigh of exasperation the red and white mech had answered the comm.

"And how may we help you today Agent Fowler?" Ratchet had asked. To the Autobot's surprise the human had visibly winced at the sarcasm in his voice.

"We have a situation that requires Team Prime in Alaska," the agent had gotten straight to the point but was avoiding direct eye contact with the medic. "I'm sending the coordinates now."

"What kind of situation?" the medic had pressed.

"We got a con who says he wants to surrender."

"Starscream?" Ratchet demanded immediately. If that sycophantic, backstabbing traitor thought for a moment that they would be fooled again…

"No, it's not any Con I'm familiar with," the human had interrupted his train of thought. "I don't even think he's from the Nemesis. And Ratchet? I'm not sure why, but I get the feeling that this Con is, different from the others."

Different indeed, the medic mused as he watched the prisoner tenderly lower June from where she had been examining a particularly deep gouge on his faceplates. The odd scar had caught Ratchet's attention as well. The medic did not exactly relax as the exam progressed. His distrust of Decepticons was far too deep for that, but it did appear to him increasingly unlikely that this Driver was a threat.

O

O

"So when do we get to meet him?" Miko asked eagerly as she sat perched atop Bulkhead's shoulder. The green mech grinned up at her in amusement. They were finally back in the base after days of banishment. Bumblebee and Optimus were out on patrol. With Raf gone north to Canada to visit his cousin for a wedding reception it was far too quiet in the base for her.

"I don't know Miko," he replied slowly. "The guy was pretty beat up when he surrendered. I think the Bossbot wants us to let him rest awhile."

"Oh that stinks," the girl fumed. "We finally capture a real live Con, have him IN the base, and we can't even see him."

"Well, we didn't actually capture him," Arcee corrected from where she and Jack were attempting to repair a burnt out section of the main computer. "He surrendered to the human authorities."

"Yeah, what was with that?" Miko demanded, slipping lightly off of Bulk's shoulder and onto the catwalk beside Jack. "Some mech just up and out of the blue surrenders?" She nudged the young man with the toe of her boots experimentally.

"It wasn't quite that simple Miko," Ratchet interjected without looking up from the screen. "Please stop pestering Jack, he's in the middle of an important calibration. This particular Cybertronian has been in stasis for centuries. How many exactly is a bit vague as his memory centers were badly damaged by something as yet undetermined during that time. But he does remember surrendering to an Autobot commander on this planet before going into stasis. When he awoke he asked the humans to contact the Autobot commander for him and they immediately assumed he meant Optimus."

"Yea, yea, but when do we get to meet him?" Miko demanded. Brushing aside what was beginning to sound like a history lesson.

"When he is ready to," the medic said flatly. "Jack, a little more power to that secondary circuit linkage. We Autobots do not inflict needless discomfort on prisoners of war."

"Wait just a minute!" the girl snapped to attention and jumped over Jack's prone form. "Did you just call me a torture you wouldn't inflict on a Decepticon?"

A muffled grunt of pain came from the young man as the hard rubber sole of her boot caught him in the midriff. A cascading wave of sparks traveled out from the machine he was working on and snapped painfully around the medics servos. The red and white Autobot jerked his fingers back with a hiss and swiftly reached over to yank Jack out from under the consol. The two glared at Miko for a moment before tending their respective burns.

"Why would I ever suggest a thing like that?" Ratchet growled.

Miko huffed and walked off towards the couch, followed by Bulkhead who was trying very hard not to grin too obviously. Despite everything he had taken a liking to the battered Decepticon. He felt a bit of kinship with him. After all they had come from the same caste, or nearly the same, before the war changed all that. The miner's story was all too familiar. The head of the gestalt had been approached just after the start of the war by one of Megatron's minions. They had refused to take sides at first, the Cons had captured and threatened some of the weaker members of the gestalt, and the next thing anybot knew they were all sporting purple badges and doing the Con's dirty work.

Bulkhead had received a similar offer at the start of the war. But he had been alone. No one depended on him and he had simply avoided the messengers until he could join up with the Autobots. But now, he glanced down at Miko. His optics grew dim and introspective. What if; before he had joined up with the good guys, someone had held her hostage? A shiver ran up his back strut as an image of Starscream clutching the girl in his long grey servos filled his processor. Would he have ended up with that purple brand on him to keep her alive? The thought was a bit chilling, not the least because he couldn't give himself a ready answer.

O

O

"What if he doesn't really exist at all?" Miko demanded of Jack as they drove towards the airport.

"What?" he asked absently as the white sedan turned onto the dirt and gravel road as they approached the Mina, Nevada Airport.

"Think about it," she persisted. "None of us have even seen this supposed Con. What if it's just some trick to keep us out of storage?"

"My mom has seen him," they young man pointed out as they pulled up to the boxy main building.

"Yeah, well she doesn't count," the girl said in exasperation. "She's one of them."

A dry chuckle burst out of the young man as the image of his mother as an Autobot filled his mind. Miko glared at him.

"You know what I mean!" she insisted.

The passenger door flew open and a small dusty form jumped in and tossed a backpack on the floorboard. Raf buckled up grinning cheerfully as Jack pulled away from the tiny airstrip.

"So how was the wedding reception?" Jack asked.

"Great!" Raf enthused. "I got to see Pedro and Selena and I brought you guys some of the cake."

"Cake!" Miko declared happily, eagerly snatching up the cardboard box Raf handed her.

Sugar and violence, Jack mused as he pulled out of the little airport, the two best ways to get the Asian girl's attention. He listened as Rafael detailed his trip. His mother and siblings had stayed a few more days but Raf had been sent home for school. The twelve year old was glowing with happiness as he described his cousin's new wife; who in addition to being beautiful beyond belief apparently embodied every virtue a woman should have. Jack grinned and nodded but Miko arched her eyebrows skeptically.

"Did you just get back from Canada or fairy-land?" she asked fluttering her fingers in the air above his head.

"Miko, be nice," Jack scolded.

"So what's the new mech like?" Raf asked eagerly. "Hey Miko! Save some cake for Jack."

"Don't know," the girl shrugged closing the box and shoving it down between the seats. "Ops won't let us near him."

"Is he that dangerous?" the boy asked a bit nervously.

"Mom doesn't think so," Jack offered. "I guess it's just that he's in pretty bad shape and they don't want us to bother him."

"Oh," Raf said softly. From what Bee had told him the white mech sounded very lonely. Raf thought of his own large family. He tried to imagine what it would be like to lose them all and be the only one left. The only thing he had to compare it to was when the sparklings offlined. A shudder ran down his spine and he changed his train of thought quickly. He resolved to try and make friends with the mech if it was possible. Not even a Decepticon deserved to be that alone.

When they pulled back into the silo Optimus was waiting for them. Miko's chore radar activated and she was out the door and sprinting down a corridor before Jack had fully stopped the car. The older teen smiled ruefully at her retreating back and stepped out to greet the Prime. As Miko had suspected there was a list of broken things that needed mending. Jack headed off to find the frame welder but the red and blue mech called Raf aside.

"Actually Rafael, I have a different task in mind for you," the Prime said looking intently at the boy, "if you are willing."

O

O

Driver lifted his helm; curiosity punctuating the lethargic fog in his processor. Someone was coming. It was not the Prime or his medic, or even the organic nurse. Even with his sensors tuned to maximum the mech could barely hear the approaching pedfalls they were so soft. Something was struggling to open the cells sliding doors. With a grunt and a final shove that something stumbled into the darkened room. Driver felt a brief stab of pain pierce his numb spark at the sight of the little one. It was just the size and shape of his own little scouts. His chestplats suddenly longed to open and embrace his brother.


	9. Compassion

Driver 9

Compassion

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

The mech grunted and shook his helm firmly. This one was not his. He was forever separated from his. He stopped when he realized that the organic had frozen in fear at his movement. In its tiny servos it held the syringe that contained his dose of energon and precious metals. It was trembling. The white mech felt his spark go out to the little one. What was the Autobot thinking, sending such a small one to tend to the needs of an enemy? Couldn't the Prime sense his ally's fear, or didn't he care? He came up to a squatting position and held out a hand in what he hoped was a soothing gesture.

"Do not be afraid little one," he crooned softly to the shaking organic. "I will not hurt you."

His efforts were rewarded with a startled gasp and then a small smile, but the organic came no closer. It had stopped at the edge of the light from the hallway Driver realized.

"Lights," the mech stated calmly.

The room was suddenly filled with a glaring with glow from above. The tiny organic blinked as his optics adjusted to the brightness. He shifted the syringe nervously in his hands and looked the mech over. His eyes lingered on the bright purple Decepticon faction badge branded onto the miner's chestplates. The white mech shifted a bit uncomfortably, well he knew the terror that symbol inspired in organics.

"What is you designation little one?" Driver asked, trying to put him at ease.

"Rafael Esquivel, sir," the boy replied quickly.

"I am called Driver," the white mech offered, suddenly glad to have a name to offer in return.

"Nice to meet you Driver sir," the boy stated. "Um, I guess I'm supposed to give you your ration of energon."

"That usually happens around this time of the solar cycle," the mech confirmed. It would have been comical the mech thought, as the little one tried to administer the dose, if it wasn't for how deadly serious Rafael was. First of all ,the syringe was far too large for the little one's hands. A flash of indignation aimed at the Prime who had assigned the organic this task burned for a moment in the miner's processor. This was clearly a job better suited for the medic. But he was very familiar with the art of passing off work seen as unimportant. In the Decepticon ranks it was often the least qualified who ended up with a task simply because the chore was delegated down by mechs who would rather not do it until it hit the bottom of the pile. He watched the organic struggle with the device determinedly for a few more moments until his spark could stand it no longer. What if the little one were punished for taking too much time at the task?

"Here, let me," the mech said softly holding out a hand for the syringe. Rafael gladly handed the device to the battered white mech. The blunt servos gracefully held the delicate device for a moment as the miner studied it. His index servo transformed swiftly, growing thinner to manipulate the lever. Making sure to hold his chassis so the little one could observe and learn the process the mech inserted the tip into the joint valve on his forearm and depressed the lever. The little organic watched in fascination. When he was done the mech handed the device carefully back to the little one.

"Um right," the human said after putting the syringe back on the trolley he had brought in with him. "So now I need to scan you for energon leaks…"

"I am fine," the mech said slumping back against the wall. "My diagnostics are working perfectly and I have no leaks of consequence."

"Huh, I guess it's that 'of consequence' part that you and Ratchet disagree on," the human joked nervously. "This won't hurt..." the human's voice drifted off as Driver fixed him with a tired stare. As if mere pain mattered to him anymore. But the boy still refused to leave.

"Do what you must," the mech said, far too tired to argue. "I am surprised they are even wasting the energy to keep me alive. Do you think the medic needs a subject to experiment on?" The miner immediately regretted asking the question. The little one's optics opened wide in shock and pain at the thought. He was too stunned to speak for a klick then he shook his head vigorously.

"No! Never! Were you afraid of that?"Raf asked in horror. "Ratchet wouldn't do something like that, and, and Optimus wouldn't let him!"

"That is good to hear," the mech said feigning a weak smile to calm down the agitated organic. He hadn't meant to frighten the little one so. He hadn't realized that it was so innocent, so naive. The little one began the scan, asking the bot to move this way or that as it worked the scanner over him. Unlike the calm and competent nurse this one kept up a constant stream of nervous chatter. The noise was a bit grating for the mech who had grown so used to silence but he listened and analyzed out of habit. "It' was actually a 'he' the mech gathered, and there were two others in the base as well. A 'he' named Jack and a 'she' named Miko. The three of them forming a unit of sorts. Rafael called the Prime by his designation alone Driver noted with surprise and rarely used his title. There was no fear and quite a bit of affection in the way he spoke of the Autobot leader. The mech shook his helm in confusion. The picture he was building of the Prime just wouldn't come together.

When the boy was done he lingered a moment longer. Raf looked up at the dull silver optics that had resumed staring off into space. He had never seen such an empty look in the eyes of any living being. It was as if a part of the mech was missing. The closest thing he had ever encountered was when Jack had come back from the gladiator pits. He hesitated at the door.

"Um, Driver sir?" he asked a bit nervously.

The mech looked at him silently.

"I guess it's my job to take care of you for now," Raf stuttered a bit. "I get here after school, that's about three-thirty except on weekends. That's two days from now, then I'm available all day. Ah, I'll give you my cell number if you need anything. I guess that's it for now. See you around?"the little human asked nervously before backing out and taking the trolley with him.

Driver watched listlessly as the organic struggled with the heavy door. He noted idly that the tracks needed to be set more efficiently and lubricated, but for now… With a tired groan the mech staggered to his peds.

"I will secure the door," he stated. The miner waited until he sensed the little one back clear and then carefully slid the door home. The force field hummed to life and the locks latched into place. He sensed the human moving away and turned to lean against the wall. With a hiss of hydraulics the mech slid to the floor. He rested one arm across his knees and leaned his helm into the warm mesh of his plating. How had it come to this? His plan had hinged on the Prime offlining him quickly. Why did the Autobot hesitate? He had confessed to enough crimes to ensure conviction. Did he need to dredge up still more atrocities that he and his unit had committed? Was there some specific information the Prime wanted? Anything he could offer was centuries out of date. Why was he still alive? How long could he maintain his deception?

O

O

"Do you really hope to keep him alive Optimus?" Ratchet asked softly.

"I plan to try my friend," the Prime replied.

"That may not be the most merciful path," the medic warned, "or even possible. In all my years of research I have never heard of a mech outliving his gestalt by more than a few cycles."

"Then this one has already exceeded historical precedent," the Prime said calmly. "I have a feeling about him old friend. From the way he spoke he sincerely regrets the actions he took under Megatron's command, and though he has far more reason than most he never once attempted to justify those actions. If he can be reached then he will make a valuable addition to our team. More importantly he will be one less life that this war has claimed."

"Perhaps," Ratchet conceded, "and I do see why it is best to have one of the humans tend to his needs for the time being, but wouldn't Jack be the better choice to care for him? He would be far more competent at the task than Rafael."

Just then the conversation was interrupted by the human in question wheeling the trolley into the silo proper. Raf shoved it to its place in the lab and trotted out to where the two mechs stood.

"Optimus, Ratchet?"

"Yes Rafael?"

"I was in Driver's room, and uh, it's kind of bare in there," the boy said nervously. "I was wondering if I could bring him some books and an old TV we have in our garage and maybe a DVD player, that sort of thing. To, you know, keep him entertained." He rambled to a stop and glanced up nervously at the Cybertronians.

"That is an excellent idea Rafael," Optimus said with a smile. "Make a list of everything you want for his room and what you are unable to procure we will requisition from Agent Fowler."

The comm. buzzed drawing their attention.

*Bumblebee requesting ground bridge back to base,* the broken voice warbled over the speaker.

"Understood Bumblebee," Ratchet responded but didn't move towards the controls. Instead he inclined his helm to the small human beside him. Raf grinned and ran eagerly up the stairs to the computer set in a kiosk. He rapidly entered the coordinates and a swirling green portal appeared. With the roar of a high performance engine a gleaming yellow muscle car swung into the base. Bee transformed and held his hands out for the human to climb up on.

*Good to see you buddy!* he chirped happily.

"You too Bee," Raf laughed in return. "Anything interesting happen one patrol?"

*I saw the police chase a herd of those big deer off the highway,* his friend offered as he set the boy on his shoulder.

"Moose?"

*No, the smaller ones with the thinner antlers.*

"Elk?"

*Yes! Those ones.*

Optimus smiled softly at the two before returning to monitoring the airwaves for signs of the Decepticons. Ratchet also let one corner of his mouth pull up at the sight. Of all the humans Rafael was the most tolerable and he seemed to keep the rambunctious young Bumblebee out of trouble as well. When in the presence of the human the scout naturally tried to behave in a more mature manner for his adopted little brother.

*How was the party for your cousin?*

"It was great!" enthused Raf as the scout carried him back into the base.

O

O

"And so I was hoping you would have some idea on how to cheer him up," Raf finished explaining to Bumblebee.

The mech was sprawled out on the concrete floor of the warehouse with his chin propped up on his fists. Raf was sitting cross-legged on a beanbag beside him. Bumblebee mulled over his friend's request. He was still a little unsure about having the human so close to a Decepticon, but Optimus Prime had vouched for the white mech's good behavior, and besides the scout couldn't help feeling proud of Raf. This was a big responsibility he had been given and he was taking it very seriously. So the yellow robot searched his processor for games that could be played in an enclosed space and other things that might amuse the miner.

*I have heard that miners like to make artwork sometimes,* he finally whistled. *Sometimes I would find the most amazing carvings and etchings and formed statues in the caverns and passageways below Cybertron's surface that they had done when I was scouting.*

"So maybe we could bring him some big rocks to carve from out in the desert?"

*Yes, or scrap metal from the warehouse,* Bee suggested gesturing around at the piles of old equipment.

Raf nodded and let out a wide yawn.

*Looks like it's time to get you home and to bed,* Bee trilled fondly as he stood to transform. The boy nodded and climbed into his open door. Until his family got back he was staying at the Darby's. The food was, interesting to say the least but Jack seemed to like having him there. Bee pulled up to their drive and let him out. The scout lingered long enough for to see Mrs. Darby open the door to the boy and welcome him into her home with a warm smile and a hug.

"Hey Bee," Arcee radioed from the garage where she leaned next to June's sedan. "Everything quiet on patrol today?"

*Pretty much,* the mech responded.

"How's the little guy handling the new job Prime gave him?"

*He's doing great!*

Arcee smiled to herself as the palpable pride came over the comm. Luckily Bee wasn't the type to get jealous. She wasn't entirely sure how she's handle having to share Jack with another full grown mech. They chatted for a few more minutes before Bee headed back to base. Arcee transformed in the cramped space as June came out with a polishing cloth. Without a word the blue Autobot lay down on the cardboard that was kept handy for just such times and spread her dorsal fins for the woman's convenience. With strong but gently strokes the nurse began rubbing down that hard to reach spot right between the fins. The Autobot gave a low purr of pleasure as she felt the tight joints relax.

"So what's the matter June," she finally asked sleepily.

"The matter?" June asked in surprise.

"Mmhmm," the Autobot confirmed. "The boy's are asleep and you should be too. Not that I'm complaining mind you, but I only get this special late night rubdown when something's on your mind. Oh, a little higher please."

The woman smiled and obeyed.

"It's Driver," she said softly. "He's slipping more every day." The woman felt Arcee tense under her fingers. It had to be hard she conceded, to know that an enemy was resting in your home. But the femme only shrugged and remained silent. June smiled sadly to herself as she finished.

"I want to help him," she said softly, "but I've see this mindset before. All he wants is to slip offline."

"Don't worry yourself too much over him June," the bot said a bit harsher then she intended to. "You need your sleep and one less Con is one less Con either way."

June tried not to hold the femme's anger against her. War left its mark on everyone and heaven knew what experiencing that kind of loss would do to her.

"I do need some shut eye," she admitted ruefully with a yawn.

Arcee gently shoved her towards the man door.

"Get to sleep June. I'm supposed to be the one watching the place."

"Goodnight Arcee."

"Goodnight June


	10. Miner

Driver 10

Miner

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"Mama? Did the package come today?" Raf rested his hands on the counter and stared entreatingly up at his mother. She smiled down at him and ruffled his spiky hair.

"That it did!" she answered him cheerfully. "It is over by the coffee maker."

Raf trotted over and picked up the heavy package marked with plenty of Canadian postage. Cousin Pedro had pulled some strings at his mine and had gotten the official documentation for the entire mine structure sent to his favorite cousin. The boy grinned as he staggered out toward where Bumblebee waited. His older brother caught him half way and snatched up the parcel. Despite Raf's protests the larger boy insisted on carrying it out to the waiting car. The passenger door swung up and he tossed the package onto the back seat with a cheery wave to the trim blond driver.

"Hey Bee! You remembering to take good care of little Raf?" the older boy called out cheerfully, ruffling his brother's hair.

Raf scowled a little at the gesture. It wasn't bad when Mama did that but he wasn't a baby anymore. The holoform gave a cheerful thumbs-up at Raf's brother and grinned widely.

"Of course you are! Keep it under ninety amigos!"

As soon as Raf was buckled in the car tore out of the drive and the hologram dissipated.

*Your brothers sure watch out for you,* Bee whistled appreciatively.

"Yeah, I guess," Raf muttered.

*Is that package the data Driver requested?* the Autobot asked to change the subject.

"Yes it is," Raf replied, suddenly enthusiastic. "Pedro found the old hard copies and got permission from the boss to send them to me."

*Didn't your mom want to know what you wanted it for?*

"Yes, I told her that a new friend at the computer club was a retired miner and he was interested in the Big Rock mine. Hey, don't you think Driver is looking better these days?"

*I do! His optics are brighter. He still slumps around the cell all the time but at least he gets up and moves occasionally.*

Raf grinned and nodded. Caring for the mech had turned out to be harder work than he thought. Not that the physical part was all that difficult. All he really had to do was bring the trolley of energon and metals to the miner and Driver did the rest himself. It was the entertaining part that turned out to be difficult. He had found a TV and DVD player easy enough. But the mech had only stared listlessly at the DVD's he had brought in. When the mech had finally watched a few Raf suspected it was more to get the human to stop bugging him about it. The same had held true for the books Raf had brought him. The boy was getting quite discouraged with the task when a fortuitous accident had occurred.

Raf's sister Pilar had the rather bad habit of storing important documents in whatever book happened to be handy. The local librarian had a special file for report cards and other sundry items that showed up in the Esquivel family returns. When the latest letter from Pedro containing a glossy photograph of Selene had gone missing a search had been made of the entire house to no avail. Pilar had guiltily slunk off to her room.

Later that week Raf was picking up the books from a table in Driver's cell after another frustrating round of trying to get the listless mech interested in something. The boy was just about to leave in defeat when the miner called him back.

"You dropped something Rafael Esquivel," Driver said as he held out a carefully folded piece of paper.

"Oh! There's the letter!" Raf exclaimed happily. "Is the picture still in it?"

The sudden and pure joy that lit up the boys face brought a small smile to the mech. He scanned the paper and nodded.

"There is a photograph inside."

Raf came forward and took them out of the Decepticon's servos.

"So this Selena is the most visually pleasing human female on your planet?" Driver asked curiously.

Raf blinked up at him in surprise.

"That's what Cousin Pedro says," the boy stated a bit confused, "but how did you know?"

"When I scanned the documents I read the data," the mech explained. "I'm sorry, was it classified?"

"No, no," Raf assured him as he slipped the letter into his backpack. "Not classified at all. Hey, you know, Cousin Pedro is a miner just like you."

"Really?" Driver asked idly.

"Yeah, he just got married to Selena. This is her," Raf said holding up the picture for the mech to examine; which he did out of politeness already having stored the image in his long term memory. It showed a female human slightly younger than Nurse Darby. She had greater skin pigmentation and larger dark eyes. Her hair was left loose to fall around her face and shoulders and a beautiful smile beamed out benevolence on the world in general.

"Married?"

"Oh, uh," Raf hesitated a moment. "That's when two humans agree to spend their lives together. 'And the two shall become one flesh,'" he quoted from the ceremony.

"So like a spark bond or forming a gestalt," Driver said his interest growing. "Will she be a part of his mining unit now?"

"Well yes and no," Raf replied earning him a confused look from the mech. "She won't go down into the mines with him, but she will do everything she can to help him. Like she'll pack his lunches and entertain his coworkers, ah the rest of his unit, and just do everything in her power to make sure he's as healthy and strong as can be when he does go down into the mines."

"And humans cannot sense each other as a Cybertronian gestalt can?"

"Well, some say they can but it's never been proven and Selene and Pedro sure can't."

The miner was quiet for a moment as he studied the image of the smiling bride.

"She has a difficult task," he said finally.

"Selene?" Raf asked surprised.

"She must wait alone while her beloved goes below," Driver said. "I have been there. It is far easier to face the dangers of the deep yourself that to stand on the surface listening to the groaning of the crust."

"Oh, I never thought about it that way," Raf whispered. He considered all the times he'd waited for Bee to come back from a dangerous scouting mission. "She did seem a little afraid whenever she talked about him going down; which was odd because the company that runs the mines has one of the best safety ratings on the planet."

"Who rates the mines for safety?"

"I'm not sure. The governments I guess."

"Perhaps I could look over the ratings for this mine," Driver suggested. "I could tell you if it was safe and then you could help ease your cousin's fears."

"That'd be great!"

"What kind of mining is he doing?"

"What? Oh," Raf thought a minute. "The Big Rock mine has a variety of minerals but their biggest one is copper."

What had followed was the longest conversation Raf had ever had with the mech. It had lasted hours while the Decepticon picked the boy's brain for every detail he remembered about the mine in question and Earth mining in general. The human lost all sense of time. When Raf had finally got home he had some explaining to do. His mother was a bit angry at first, but when he explained that a master miner had agreed to assess the safety of Pedro's mine her agitation vanished and she offered to do everything she could to help. This is what led to Raf hauling the heavy package out to the yellow Camero.

Since that conversation the mech had begun to request any and all information he could get on Earth mining and metalworking. The mech had absorbed the data from DVD's, VHS tapes, eight-tracks, and every book in the local library system. Raf had written to his cousin for every detail he could get on the mine and Pedro had cheerfully obliged, even sending semi classified documents. The bundle currently bouncing around Bumblebee's rear seat was the complete history of safety reports for the mine.

Driver met them in the main silo. Optimus had cleared him to be out of his cell when supervised by at least two Autobots. Time and exposure were gradually wearing away the deep distrust between them and the miner. Logically they knew that the Cybertronian had been under duress the entire time he had worked for the enemy, and the Decepticons had lost their hold on him when his last brother had died. But battle is a matter of instinct as much as it is knowledge, and their instincts screamed at them to distrust that purple shield. Nevertheless the miner's gentle spirit was slowly softening their resistance.

Bumblebee, young and eager, had been the first to warm up to the ex-Con. He pulled up beside the white mech and transformed, shifting Raf to his shoulder and holding the packet out to Driver. The mech scanned the packet and began processing the data.

"I wish I could absorb things that fast," Raf commented wistfully.

Driver glanced up at him in confusion.

"Why?"

"Well, so I could learn faster and learn more," Raf explained.

*What are you doing with all this data anyway? And why are you in such a hurry,* Bee asked, as they strode briskly towards Driver's room.

"I am locating ways the mine might be made safer for Rafael's cousin using the human's current technology," the white mech explained. "I have already found several and I would like to complete the study before I off whoa!"

Suddenly the yellow mech tripped and lurched into his companion. Rafael yelped and clung to his shoulder as the Cybertronians regained their balance.

*Sorry about that,* Bumblebee chirped helping Driver to his peds.

The white mech stared at him expressionlessly then started off down the corridor. When they reached the room Driver looked around for a moment and frowned.

"Where is that data pad we were using?" he asked Raf.

The boy glanced around and shook his head.

"I think I left it by the couch. I'll go get it."

Once he was gone Driver slowly turned on Bumblebee.

"What was that about?" he asked calmly.

*What was what about?* Bee replied glancing nervously away.

"You know how Autobots are always spouting on about the importance of the truth? Is that merely because none of you can lie worth scrap?" the white mech demanded. "You tripped into me on purpose back there. Why?"

Bee refused to meet his optics and didn't answer.

"Look Autobot, I may not be the brightest crystal in the garden but I'm not stupid either. You didn't want Raf to hear what I was going to say. Wait! Does he not know that I'm going to offline soon?" The mech's optics narrowed as the idea struck him He had never brought up the subject and neither had the human but Driver had simply assumed the boy was being polite. "Why? What could you gain by keeping him ignorant?"

The scout made an undignified break for the door chirping softly in distress. Driver listened to him flee down the corridor. The Autobots were famous for being soft-sparked. It made a certain kind of sense if they hadn't told the little one about his impending demise. They didn't want to hurt the child. But if that was the case then why assign Raf to him at all? Why not simply isolate him from all the children or assign the more mature Jack? He was certain the Prime was not stupid and reasonably sure he would not show cruelty to an ally and a child. It made no sense.

Driver thrust a drill into the wall in frustration and jumped back in surprise at the amount of damage he caused. The mech reminded himself that this was a human construct with a sigh and went to requisition a bag of concrete from the medic. He should probably run a self diagnostic too or Ratchet would insist on performing a full scan. Driver paused at the door as a stray thought hit him. His faceplates went utter blank as he ran a self diagnostic of his cyber-neural net. Slow rage mingled with cold fear rose in his spark as his processor slowly and methodically ground over the facts.

When a mech was separated from his gestalt what usually caused the final offlining was the degradation of the cyber-neural network. What ultimately caused this decay had been debated fiercely in academic circles in the Golden Age of Cybertron. To the mech in question however, spark-break was usually a sufficient answer. When his gestalt has still numbered close to a thousand mechs Decepticon scientists had experimented on some who were considered expendable. To accomplish this they had done what was previously thought to be impossible; they had broken the gestalt bond without offlining the mech. It was also previously thought to be morally reprehensible and useless but when did that ever stop a determined Decepticon scientist? This allowed them to study the degradation rate under controlled conditions. It also allowed the commander in charge of the gestalt to play the screams of the isolated mechs back to any in the unit who might think of disobeying orders.

The end result was that Driver knew at exactly what rate his cyber-neural net should be degrading. And up till now his mental function had been dutifully following the curve the tests had predicted. But now the degradation had stopped. No, not just stopped; reversed. He was functioning at a higher rate than at any time since he had woken from stasis in that little human village. There was only one thing that could account for that; only one thing that could pull a lone gestalt member back from the brink. Driver saw the welcoming blackness of oblivion snatched from him in that moment and he saw the servos that had snatched it.

With a snarl of rage the battered white mech strode into the silo proper. Optimus Prime was at the main computer. Transforming his hand into a drill Driver swung it at the Autobot in a blind fury. He felt the red and blue mech deflect the blow easily and shift slightly but Optimus did not take up a fighting stance. He simply stood there staring compassionately down at the suffering mech.

"You did this on purpose!" Driver roared out.

"Did what?" a small voice cried out.

Silver optics turned toward the sound. Raf was standing by the human's couch watching the confrontation with a look of fear and confusion on his face. The white mech felt his rage melt away as surely as it had come. Shame boiled up for frightening the little one. He glanced around the base. Bumblebee was standing worriedly by the groundbridge looking guilty. Ratchet was glaring at the two mechs who dared get in a fight over his precious equipment.

"We need to talk," Driver finally growled.

"Indeed," Optimus replied. "Ratchet we may be busy some time. Please brief Agent Fowler when he comes. Driver, follow me."

With that the leader of the Autobots strode back into the depths of the base.


	11. Confrontation

Driver 11

Confrontation

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"Why?" the white mech demand once they were alone. "Why won't you Autobots let me offline?"

The Prime stood silently and watched Driver pace back and forth across the training room floor.

"It was all I asked of the commander of that ship! Just end us! But he had to shove me in that scraping pod and now I am alone, as good as offline. Why? Either way I'm gone. My unit is gone. Everybot I ever cared for has left me. You! You were supposed to be merciful. So offline me! It was all I asked of you, but not only do you deny my request you try to force a reason to stay online on me. Why?"

The miner stopped pacing and glared up at the prime fiercely. Optimus stared evenly into his silver optics.

"Did I succeed?" the Prime asked softly.

Driver spun away from the Autobot and stormed over to the furthest corner. He transformed his hand and repeatedly slammed a powerful drill into the concrete of the wall. Dust and small debris rained down from the ceiling onto his lowered helm. He shuttered his optics and the image of Raf's smiling face suddenly floated before him; those little hands so eager to help, the way he adjusted his glasses before he buckled down to work on a hard problem. Driver thought about leaving the little one behind, of never seeing him again. Another image rose in his processor; Raf weeping over his offline chassis. The child was so innocent. A pang suddenly seized his spark. He knew; had known; there was no way he could do that to the boy, not if it was in his power to prevent it. And yet, a small voice whispered in his processor, hadn't he already done just that? The mech silenced the whisper and refocused his dying rage on the handiest target.

"You used my core programming," the white mech muttered accusingly without looking up. "You knew that if I had someone to care for, a brother to love, I couldn't go offline. That is why you assigned the smallest and weakest of your unit to tend to my needs. I wouldn't have been as likely to bond to someone who didn't need my help."

"It is as you say," the Prime admitted freely.

"Why?" the white mech demanded again with agony in his voice.

"Life is precious," stated the Prime gently. "I vowed long ago to protect and defend it at all costs. I once dreamed of saving everything; Cybertron, the senate, our lives and culture." Optimus hung his helm for a moment in silence. "Now all that is gone," he continued finally, "and I have little left of my original ideals. But this I stand firm on. Life is precious and I will continue to defend it. This war has claimed far too many. I will not let it take any who are in my power to save."

Driver glared at the damaged wall in front of him. He didn't want to understand, didn't want to see what the red mech was saying, but the gentle words were slowly filling his processor. Was that really what drove the Prime? The miner had never fully believed the rumors about him that circulated among the Decepticon forces but this was something else entirely. Driver knew what it was to have responsibility thrust upon him. His class was never meant to lead; he was a galvanizing force following the orders of those above him. As his unit had been winnowed down he had accepted more and more responsibility. But Optimus had had the entirety of Cybertron thrust upon in one fell swoop.

"All of Cybertron was your unit," the mech finally said tiredly.

Where Driver had been concerned with keeping his unit alive and together, the Prime had accepted that responsibility for an entire planet. The miner heard the Autobot slowly walk out of the room; leaving him to his thoughts. The mech had the sudden urge to go after Optimus; to fall at his peds and confess everything, bear his spark to this mech who had already shown such kindness, but habit can be a much stronger force that logic, and the habit of distrust had been engrained in the miner over eons. It would not be uprooted in a single cycle.

Leaning his head against the damaged wall the mech let out a growl of frustration. He couldn't bear to go on living, wouldn't go offline; what was there for him? Only a pain that started in his spark and spread throughout his entire being. No, he realized dully. That wasn't true. If he had accepted the little human he was at least partially responsible for his safety. That was his now; to care for and protect Raf. From there his immediate duties became clear. Habit again came to his aid. He was a worker, always happiest when completing some task. The white mech focused on the task in front of him and planed his actions from there.

The pain was not gone. It wasn't even lessened. His spark still cried out for his brothers beyond his reach. The weight of guilt for the many evil things he had done pressed down on him even harder if that were possible. Now there was a face to associate with all of the organics he had offlined, no killed. But now there was something to fill the emptiness the pain resided in.

O

O

Raf was sitting in Bee's cupped hands staring unhappily at the package he'd received from Cousin Pedro. He had no idea what had set the moody Decepticon off. Driver had never just sent him away before. Was it something in the data packet? Something Raf had said? After what seemed like an eternity Optimus came back and began talking with Agent Fowler. Raf couldn't stand it any longer and ran up to the Autobot leader.

"Optimus?" he started nervously. "Is Driver okay?"

The Prime turned away from the agent and knelt down in front of the child and with exceeding care rested his hand gently on the human's back.

"Rafael," the mech spoke gently, "Driver is facing a great challenge right now. He requires time to come to grips with the changes that are occurring within him."

"What changes?" Raf asked in confusion.

"That is not for me to comment upon, or even claim to understand fully. Perhaps he will share that with you one day. But it is for him to decide."

The boy nodded slowly but his face still held a hurt expression. Optimus understood. It was painful to watch someone you cared about suffer and be unable to help them. He gave Raf a gentle squeeze and returned to his conversation with Agent Fowler. Ever since the children had come into their lives the agent's visits had become more frequent. Whereas before he had usually only appeared when there was trouble of some sort it now appeared to the Prime that the human actively created reasons to physically come to the base. As Optimus could only suppose it was out of concern for the children's welfare he could not fault Fowler's actions.

"Ratchet."

Rafael turned eagerly towards the voice. Driver was walking out of the back of the base covered in grey dust. His faceplates were set in an impassive stare as he addressed the medic.

"I've damaged the walls in the training room," the white mech stated emotionlessly. "The superstructure is unharmed but I will require several bags of concrete to repair the surface."

"Very well," Ratchet sighed. At least this one cleaned up after himself. "Give me a list of what you need and I will procure it for you."

Rafael watched the interaction nervously, mindful of Optimus's words regarding respecting Driver's privacy. But before the white mech resumed his work he came over to the child and gave him a smile. The gesture was sincere, but oh, so tired.

"Please forgive my behavior," the mine requested. "I, I still have, issues to work through from my time with the Decepticons."

"Of course I forgive you," the boy said with a relieved smile. "Um, did I say anything that offended you?"

"No, no!" the mech protested; aghast that he had caused Raf such doubt. "This was between the Prime and me alone." He reached out a hand and Raf eagerly scrambled in. "Now, I am afraid I will need to postpone finalizing my analysis of that mine of yours until I repair the damage I did to the base walls."

"Oh, that's okay!" Raf said eagerly. "Can we help?"

"I don't see why not," Driver stated glancing over at Bee who was carefully approaching. "Do you want to assist as well?"

*You bet!* the scout enthused, sensing that he'd been forgiven for his part in the conspiracy.

"Very well, I have already pinged the list of resources to Ratchet and he has directed me to their location." Driver lightly tossed Raf over to Bumblebee and strode off down the corridor.

The two friends followed him. The next few hours were almost enjoyable. Driver only spoke to instruct his apprentices in the task at hand. It started out as a scavenger hunt; trying to find all the odds and ends they would need to fix the holes in the wall. Deep in the storage units on the base Bumblebee discovered human sized masonry tools for Raf to use. The white mech had paused for a moment to examine the human's hands critically and declared he needed gloves to continue. Finding a pair small enough had been a challenge but they had managed. The trowels were worn with use but had obviously been well cared for. There was an oversized aluminum bullfloat, about six feet long with a wooden handle, which Driver assigned to Bumblebee.

The white mech carefully measured a few pounds concrete, sand, and water into a fifty-gallon drum. He inserted a paddle and held it while his wrist joint began spinning. When the miner was satisfied with the consistency of the test batch he made a larger amount.

Repairing the walls took several hours. It would have no doubt gone much faster had Driver been working alone but the mech patiently instructed the eager Bee and tiny Raf in each step of the process. When they were done the yellow scout and the human were proudly examining the smooth section of wall that Raf had finished.

"Once it dries we can apply the sealant used in the rest of the base," Driver offered, "Although I would suggest evacuating the humans from the area until the volatile chemicals in the mixture have had a chance to dissipate."

*You do think of everything,* Bee whistled appreciatively as he shifted the tired Raf to his shoulder.

"I was a lead mech," the miner stated simply. "That was my job."

The scout nodded uneasily as they washed the tools. Driver had been one of a thousand, and now he was the last. Bee had seen a lot of good mechs offline over the course of the war. He had been close to many of them. But he couldn't imagine what it must have been like to lose a piece of yourself at a time, feeling each and every end.

*Driver?* he said cautiously when Raf had left them to go to the restroom.

"Yes?"

*I, I just,* the young scout stumbled to a halt and the white mech waited patiently. *I guess I wanted to say I'm sorry,* he finally got out.

"For obeying you commander and keeping his plan a secret?" Driver asked arching an optic ridge.

*No. For your loss, losses. That you're alone,* the yellow mech got out, realizing that he was explaining himself poorly.

Driver shook his helm and turned back to hosing down the tools.

"Don't be," he said bluntly. "It was war, and very few of my brothers actually fell to Autobots in combat. Far more died at the servos of our own faction and still more to accidents in the mines."

*That's not what I meant,* Bumblebee went on, frustrated.

Driver suddenly felt a weight on his shoulder. He glanced in surprise at the dark grey servos. Bee had rested a hand on his shoulder and was staring intently at him with wide earnest optics. In that moment the white mech understood the sympathy and compassion that flowed through the simple touch. He laid his own hand atop Bees and gave the scout a weak attempt at a smile.

"Thank you, friend."

O

O

Mrs. Esquivel slipped into the room Raf shared with his friend. He had arrived home late again tonight but the woman hadn't bothered to reprimand him. It had looked like he had been hosed down thoroughly and the spots of cement that covered his clothes and face had told a pretty clear story. She had simply sent him off to the bath before feeding the boy and watching him nearly fall asleep in his chair.

She had to admit she had been a bit concerned about this computer club. Raf already spent so much time in front of electronics and this pulled him away from his family. However, June Darby had vouched for the program and promised that her boy Jack would be supervising. Now Raf's mother was glad she had agreed. It was doing him a world of good. From his firming muscles to his more confident walk she watched her son mature with pride. Now they were doing construction work? She smiled and brushed a hair out of the boy's sleeping face.

A frown creased her forehead when her eyes fell on the paperwork on the floor by Raf's bed. She bent to pick it up and place it on the desk. Pedro, her mind drifted back to the odd confrontation the day he had left for big rock mine. She was waving to his departing plane when an incredibly wrinkled old woman had slipped up to her elbow. Her eyes were a startling white and her hair was so greasy and dirty that its original color was indistinguishable.

"He's not coming back you know," the stranger had cackled up at Mrs. Esquivel. "The mine will fall, the waters will rise." Her voice became a shriek as gnarled old hands gripped the mother's arm. "There is none on this Earth who can save him! Not one!" With that the apparition had slipped off into the crowd as Mrs. Esquivel's oldest son had rushed forward to assist his mother.

The woman shook her head as she left Raf's room. She was not superstitious she told herself firmly. It had only been a crazy old woman. But the nagging feeling of dread had never left her, even after Pedro had written back saying he had got on at the safest mine in the industry.


	12. Things that go Boomp!

Driver 12

Things that go Boomp!

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Life, like a river, can accept the greatest of changes and settle down into a new course. Just as it is still the same river, so it is still the same life even after major alterations. The presence of the ex-Decepticon in the Autobot base caused a sensation of emotion; anger, pain, curiosity. But time smoothes the rough edges of reaction and the easy going mech was not difficult to like.

Driver had discovered that the easiest way to bear up under the pain was to keep busy. It wasn't difficult. The silo was old and damaged even before the bots had taken residence and several multi-ton highly active robots were not what the infrastructure was intended to handle. It took some time to simply catalogue all the cracks and fissures in the base walls and floor. With Ratchet's assistance the white mech prioritized them by how dangerous they were to the children and set to work. He mixed concrete, set rebar, and rewove wiring. Jack and Raf often assisted; Miko helped a few times but after she had mastered one skill set to Driver's standards the girl quickly grew board and wandered off.

The white mech continued to spend the majority of his free time with Raf and Bumblebee. For his part the yellow scout seemed glad to have someone to keep his human occupied while he was out on recon missions. It didn't escape Bee's notice that after a day of 'taking care of' Driver the boy was much happier than otherwise. Responsibility suited Rafael. But still the scout treasured their time together and the perceptive miner was quick to step aside when he sensed the two wanted to be alone.

Ratchet was quickly growing attached to their new addition. While Driver was generally below average for a Cybertronian in intellect he had a firm grasp of basic mechanics and under the medics watchful optic the second pair of servos was swiftly repairing a long list of items the red and white Autobot had despaired of ever seeing functioning again. Added to that the white mech worked in silence, seeming to feel no need for the endless chatter the majority of the base's residents preferred. This was a blessed relief to the harried medic.

Personally Ratchet felt an ever growing respect for the miner. The list of repairs the medic had to perform filled an unbelievably large section of the medical database. A few were recent and superficial; no doubt acquired as he climbed out of the damaged escape pod. The rest were old and deep. The medic had tactfully requested the white mech's permission to discuss them with the Prime and received an uncaring agreement.

"I've seen victims of Decepticon 'research' before Optimus," the medic stated grimly over the comm. as the red and blue semi cruised across the barren Sierra, ''but this, this is beyond anything I've ever heard of. Some of it is the natural damage that occurs during dangerous operations like mining, some of it is battle damage, but by far the majority is what I can only term experimental surgery. He must have been cut open hundreds of times, and then left to self repair. Partly the scarring is from the original damage and partly from amateur repair jobs, and for the spark in me I can't tell which is which his insides are so messed up."

Optimus remained silent and let his oldest friend vent the rage that had grown within him.

"And the part I don't get is that there simply cannot be any logical reason behind this. Why risk the life of what even a Decepticon must realize is at the very least as valuable an asset as a multi-gestalt for no good reason? There is no logic behind these surgeries. It is as if they simply wanted to see how much he could take and still function. It drives me nearly mad old friend; knowing that they did this to such a caring spark. Did you know that he has recalibrated all his hazard sensors to human tolerance levels? He always has me check those first when he comes in for maintenance."

"Driver is indeed strong," the prime commented softly.

"Yes, yes he is," Ratchet agreed. "By the way, were you planning on letting him out of the base anytime soon?"

"Has Driver requested it?"

Ratchet let out a derisive snort.

"Him? Primus no. I don't think he'd ask for energon if he was about to go into stasis, not if it was for himself. No, Raf and Miko have been badgering me about letting him stretch his wheels outside."

"I do believe that he has proven his intentions to the point that an escorted excursion would not be unwarranted."

"Agreed Optimus. Shall I tell the little annoyances that?"

"Negative Ratchet," the Prime replied with some amusement in his voice. "I will inform Driver myself when I return this evening. He may tell our human friends as he wishes."

The medic gave vent to an aggravated sigh.

"Very well, perhaps I can interest them in a game of 'hide the Miko in a cooling vat'," he muttered.

Optimus gave a dry chuckle at that and deactivated the signal.

O

O

Driver strolled into the silo studying a list he was compiling for Agent Fowler. The task of maintaining the base superstructure that the mech had taken up had rapidly exceeded the onsite resources. He stopped in his tracks as his newly repaired chemical sensors picked up an odd vapor and triggered the alarms he had set in place.

A miner needs to be constantly aware of the atmosphere around him. In enclosed spaces gasses can expand to fill a cave or gather in stagnant pools. Even for those who don't need to breathe this can be dangerous. Certain gasses can eat away the sensitive optics and audio-receptors. Others will set off fiery explosions from the spark of a ped on a rock. A Cybertronian miner is one of the few mechs who constantly 'breath'; drawing the air into specialized sacs and holding it there to be analyzed before expelling it. Driver's olfactory sacs had been badly damaged stellar-cycles ago. Ratchet had been able to bring them to nearly forty percent function; a statistic that infuriated the meticulous medic and delighted the grateful miner.

Now he frowned and drew deep draughts of air over the newly repaired organs. He tilted his round helm to one side and considered the data his processor was receiving. There was an unusual presence in the atmosphere of the base, one he had never experienced before in his many years of underground labor. It was a mixture of excited hydrocarbon volatiles and something he simply couldn't identify.

Driver began to slowly circle the base, analyzing the air currents, attempting to locate the source of the gas. He was cautiously approaching Nurse Darby's vehicle when she came out of the lab. He glanced over at the woman in concern. The fumes were not immediately harmful to Cybertronian physiology but if the concentration increased any further they would pose a significant risk to the delicate respiratory system of the humans.

"Nurse Darby," he called out, "Please stop there. I am tracking an odd vapor."

The woman stopped and glanced up in surprise. Driver heard a curse from the lab and Ratchet rushed out into the silo.

"What is the problem," the red and white medic demanded frantically.

"There's a weird fume in this part of the base," Driver stated. "It looks like it's harmful to humans."

Ratchet paused and drew in a deep breath of the base air. He scowled.

"I can detect nothing," he growled, "But given the differences in our olfactory abilities that means little. I will run a more detailed analysis with the main computer. You continue to search for the source. Nurse Darby." The woman turned to look at him. "I believe you were about to leave to acquire foodstuffs for yourself and Jack? It would probably be best if you did so, and did not return until this is resolved."

"Will do Doctor." June said stifling a yawn as she climbed into her sedan.

The seatbelt clicked into place as Driver slowly approached unnoticed. The nurse slid the key into the ignition and flicked her wrist forward. Instead of the smooth purr that the car had been producing ever since Ratchet had taken to repairing it for her, the engine gave an odd stuttering growl. The tired woman grimaced and gave the key another, more forceful turn.

Driver reacted. With unbelievable speed the mech lunged forward and ripped the door off of the white car. Battered grey servos shot into the vehicle, extending razor sharp blades that severed the seatbelt instantly. By the time the servos closed around the human's trim body they had transformed again to be perfectly smooth. He pressed the woman to his chestplates and leapt across the silo, putting as much space and the bulk of his own frame between her and the car. All of this happened in the space of a heartbeat. By the time June's heart had time to pound twice more she was astonished and a bit frightened. Three more rapid beats and she was opening her mouth to demand an explanation. Then the engine exploded.

As explosions went it was rather unimpressive. Certainly it was not worthy of the movie industry. There was a low thump and the front end of the white sedan jumped slightly, releasing a fog of green particularities. There were a few, smaller secondary whumps and the vehicle began emitting black and grey smoke as rubber components caught fire and burned. Ratchet was suddenly there pouring the contents of a fire extinguisher into the engine compartment.

"What in the name of the Allspark happened here?" he demanded as soon as the fires were out.

"I'm not sure," Driver replied. "But the car is still venting bad gasses."

With a snarl Ratchet swiftly scooped up the car and hustled it into his lab. He leaned it against the clear wall of the isolation unit and sealed the door. He took a few moments to make certain that there was nothing too harmful in the gasses and proceeded to vent them into the purification system. When he returned to the silo proper Driver was attempting to sooth an understandably agitated June.

"What was that?" she demanded of the medic.

"I will need to run further tests," he said grimly, "but if I had to guess I'd say there was Synthergon in the fuel."

"Synthergon?" Driver asked.

"A form of experimental synthetic energon I developed," the medic explained, "still very much in the testing phase."

"Who would be crazy enough to put something like that in an internal combustion engine?" the miner wondered out loud.

June's dark blue eyes rose to meet Ratchet's optics as a single though passed between them.

O

O

A slim Asian girl was staring listlessly out the window of her classroom when her cell rang. A small bit of panic gripped her heart as she recognized the ringtone. She shot over to the door, snatching a bathroom pass and yelling 'gotta go' over her shoulder. Once she was safely in the single stall bathroom the girl pulled out her bright pink phone and pressed it to her ear heart thumping. Ratchet never called during school hours. For him to break his rule it must be a real emergency.

"Is Bulk okay?" she demanded immediately.

A snort came over the line.

"To the best of my knowledge Bulkhead is perfectly fine Miko," the medic's voice replied dryly. "I called to talk about you; specifically what you did to Nurse Darby's car this morning before school."

"What? I didn't do scrap to that old thing," Miko protested disdainfully, swiftly growing bored with the conversation once she realized her guardian was in no danger.

"Are you certain," persisted Ratchet. "You didn't perchance put some of my synthergon in the gas tank?"

Miko was about to protest again when her eyes suddenly snapped open.

"Oh, that!" she said excitedly. "Yeah, she was complaining about not getting good enough gas mileage last night and you were all bragging about how this newest batch improved that 'e' word for your machines…"

"Efficiency?"

"Yep, that's the one," Miko confirmed. "I figured I'd do a little test for you. So how'd it work out?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment.

"Miko, we are going to have a long talk when you get back to base," Ratchet growled just before he ended the call.

The girl shrugged and headed back to class.

O

O

"We've found our culprit," the medic confirmed to his two listeners. "She thought it would improve your gas mileage. On the bright side I should be able to repair the damage your vehicle suffered within a week."

June shook her head, torn between a laugh and a groan.

"Well I still need to go shopping soon," she sighed, "my cupboards are bare and I have a teenage boy to feed."

"I need to report this to Optimus," Ratchet stated. "The air is clearing so it will be safe for you to remain until Bulkhead or Bumblebee can escort you. They will return in a few hours. After I speak to Optimus I would like to run some tests on you just to be sure the fumes didn't damage your membranes."

June nodded in a resigned fashion before turning her attention to the white mech who hovered over her.

"Driver," she said softly. "You saved my life back there. Thank you."

The miner shifted uncomfortably on his peds, unsure how to respond to the praise and gratitude that was radiating from the woman.

"Indeed," Ratchet agreed. "We are in your debt. If it wasn't for your swift reactions…" the medic trailed off as the full implications of the incident finally caught up with his harried processor. A cold shiver chased its way up his backstrut as he considered how close he'd come to losing the only human he'd been able to truly connect with.

"I am glad I was in the right place to detect the vapors," Driver replied awkwardly. He shifted nervously again.

June smiled and rested a hand on his leg before turning to climb the stairs to the human's living area. She sensed his unease and thought it best to give the mech some space. Ratchet followed her lead and went to contact the Prime. Driver gratefully turned his attention back to the list he was compiling. Somewhat to Ratchet's surprise Optimus insisted on bridging directly back to base to check on June. The Prime stood patiently by until the medic gave her a clean bill of health. By this time Arcee had pulled into base carrying Jack and Miko.

"Where's Rafael?" Driver asked the two children as they dismounted.

"He had to go straight home," Jack replied, taking off his helmet and shaking out his hair. "His Grandma's birthday is today and he has to help get ready. Miko and I are invited over later."

"Yeah, it's gonna be a real snore fest but I think the little geek needs to prove he actually has friends or something like that," Miko offered as she made a B-line for the computers.

Ratchet intercepted her half-way; snatching the girl up effortlessly in one giant hand.

"Oh no you don't missy," he growled menacingly. "Optimus, I think it's time for that talk."

"Indeed. I will be with you shortly," the Prime responded.

"No! Not death by lecture!" Miko wailed in mock terror.

"What'd she do this time?" Arcee asked her faceplates twitching into a smile.

"In an effort to improve the vehicle's fuel efficiency, she injected synthergon into Mrs. Darby's car," Optimus stated calmly.

"What?" Jack and Arcee chorused in horror.

"Is Mom all right?"

"She is well," the Autobot leader confirmed, "thanks to Driver's alertness and quick thinking." Optimus explained the situation succinctly. Arcee shook her head and let out a snort.

"That girl is a menace," she pronounced.

"Perhaps," Optimus conceded.

"Well, I'm just glad Driver was there," Jack said firmly.

Arcee nodded a bit reluctantly. She pushed back the jealousy that rose whenever Jack spoke of the white mech. It was only natural that he would admire the tough and gentle miner, especially after Miko's stunt.

"Well, your Mom needs to go shopping and you need to get ready for the party right?" she asked her partner. "How bout you shower up here and I'll take June for a girl's afternoon out?"

"Sounds good to me. Mom?"

"Thank you for the offer Arcee," the woman responded. "But I really need a bit more cargo capacity then you have and the local sheriff knows I still don't have my motorcycle endorsement. I don't need a ticket."

"Well Bee and Bulk won't be back from scouting duty for a few hours but you could go with one of them."

"I guess that will have to do," June said with a slightly forced smile.

"I could do the shopping for us this week Mom," Jack offered. "You look like you need rest."

"No Jack, you have to get ready for the party, and there's still that grocery space issue. I'll be fine."

"June," Optimus's voice drew their attention. "I believe Driver has the cargo capacity you require."

Arcee stiffened and her optics narrowed. Was Optimus really suggesting what she thought he was?

"Driver?" the nurse asked turning toward the white mech with a hopeful smile. "Would you take me shopping?"


	13. Attention

Driver 13

Appreciation

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Arcee glanced between June and Optimus in shock, unable to believe what she was hearing. Driver for his part was nearly as surprised. He had accepted the growing responsibility the Prime had been giving him without question, but to place the life of one of the humans in his servos? He glanced over at the woman and she was looking at him with complete trust. The miner slowly nodded.

"If you want me to, I'd be glad to take you out," he said a bit stiffly.

This earned him a giggle from across the silo. Miko was walking out of the medibay, having apparently received the medic's portion of the lecture and been chased out of the lab. Driver looked at her curiously, wondering if he'd unknowingly breached some human taboo.

"Ah, Miko we still need to talk," Optimus said turning towards the girl.

The slim Asian flinched and backed up a little.

"But hey, Driver's gonna need some help to find himself a good alt-mode," she protested. "I have some totally rad ideas."

"Actually I already have a vehicle form," the miner stated. "I got one right out of stasis."

"Really?" Miko exclaimed dodging around Optimus. "Cool! Let's see it."

The white mech nodded and transformed. The process was more complex that the Autobots. It seemed as if twice as many plates shifted and more of the inner workings of the mech were involved. When the transformation was complete Miko stared dumbly at the automobile that sat before them.

"No," the girl said flatly.

"Is there something inappropriate about this form?" Driver asked in the silence.

"No, no," June assured him with a smile. "It is fine."

"Oh no, it's not!" Miko protested shaking her head. "I mean what is it even?"

A small white pickup with a camper shell sat in the middle of the silo floor. It was angular and boxy and about three decades out of date. Two thin dark brown lines ran from fore to aft but otherwise it was undecorated. The many scratches and scars that the miner bore translated into a battered appearance. A very hand-made looking rack perched on top of the camper shell.

"A Volkswagen Rabbit," the nurse murmured delighted, "the diesel model. My uncle used to have one. Where did you find it?"

"It was just outside of the human village I woke up next to," Driver replied.

All in all June mused it would fit right in with the run of the mill vehicles in Jasper. She said as much and Driver seemed pleased. Miko was still protesting loudly as Optimus gently scooped her up and carried her off.

The nurse walked up to the truck and rested a hand on the cab as the driver door swung open. For a moment the long ago memories of spending time on her uncle's farm came rushing back as her fingers stroked the smooth metal. The moment was broken when her eyes rose and met Arcee's smoldering optics. June sent her friend a reassuring and sympathetic smile. The blue Autobot was clearly torn between trusting and obeying the Prime and the fear and jealously that seeing the fragile human climb into her ancient enemy inspired. With a little sigh June slid into the smooth leather seat and let Arcee battle her own demons.

"May I engage the safety restraints?" Driver asked politely.

"Of course," June responded.

"Would you like me to adjust the seat for you?" the mech suggested tentatively.

The woman only nodded as she stifled a yawn. The seat conformed to her back and thighs leaving her floating in a comforting cloud of warmth. With a surprising amount of noise his engine rattled to life. June blinked in surprise but shrugged it off. He was impersonating a diesel after all. The pickup rolled gracefully out of the silo proper. The nurse determinedly attempted to stay alert and plan her shopping as they drove along; a task that was made suddenly much easier when the white truck rolled carelessly past a stop sign.

"Driver!" June sat up with a gasp as two decades of conditioning screamed off alarms in her head.

"What is wrong?" the mech asked in concern skidding to a stop off the road in the sand. He had sensed her heart rate spike and the panic pheromones coming off her.

"Oh, my, word! I just realized," she finally managed to gasp out with a weak laugh. "Did anyone bother explaining the traffic laws to you?"

"Traffic laws?" he asked a bit confused.

"Yes, you know. The rules that govern how vehicular forms interact with each other on roadways? Ratchet said they had them on Cybertron."

"I'm sorry, no," Driver explained, angling his mirrors to get a better look at the female and assure himself she was all right. "Mining multi-gestalts almost never went on the surface roads. The gestalt bond meant we always knew what our brothers were up to and we had nearly as good communication with the other gestalts, and well, anyone else just got out of our way."

June leaned back in the seat and let out a hearty laugh. Driver couldn't see the humor in the situation but relaxed as he felt the tension leave her.

"Well," she said ruefully shaking her head. "I'm very glad we got this figured out _before_ we got into town."

The next few minutes consisted of the human instructing the Cybertronian on how to find the Nevada driver's instructional manual online. Unlike the Autobots, who had all learned information gathering under the auspices of a former data clerk, Driver found even the relatively simple human information web daunting. But under June's gentle guidance the miner found the document. Once he actually acquired the data and was safely off the information superhighway the instructions were incredibly easy for him to process.

"Okay," he said, "I've got it."

"Let's roll then."

At exactly the appropriate speed the pickup pulled up to the highway and ignited his turn signal. He gracefully pulled onto the asphalt and accelerated to precisely seventy miles per hour. The low roar and rattle of the mock diesel engine was soothing and June nodded and soon found herself drifting off in the afternoon sun. She blinked awake as they pulled into their first destination. With a wide yawn she indicated a parking lot far from the store.

"Just pull in there," she instructed.

There was a pause as the truck rolled to a stop far from the chosen space.

"No, Nurse Darby."

"What?" the nurse demanded. She didn't think she had ever heard such a firm tone from the placid miner before.

"No," he repeated with finality in his voice.

"Why?" June asked in confusion.

"I haven't done the safety analysis yet and that spot's too far from the facility. If I need to rescue you I want to be as close as possible."

The woman opened her mouth to protest but the gesture turned into a wide yawn. She sighed and nodded her consent. Driver cautiously circled the store twice before settling on a side parking space from which he could observe two of the buildings three doors. The miner dropped a sensor drone to watch the third. When he was finally satisfied with his examination he slipped into the space. June moved to open the door but found the latch unresponsive.

"I believe you have a device called a Bluetooth?" the pickup inquired.

"Yes, right here," June pulled out the device.

"Please place it in the compartment under the radio."

June did as she was instructed and watched curiously as a swarm of musicale silver things crawled into the device and then crawled out again.

"There," the miner said in a satisfied tone. "I should be able to contact you with this through most anything now. Please keep it on you," there was a bit of pleading in the last request. Clearly the ex-Decepticon knew that he had no real authority over the woman.

June nodded and slipped the device into her ear. To her surprise it slipped easily in and clipped comfortably on. After a moment she didn't even feel it. The nurse sat patiently as Driver listed every danger and possible danger that he could sense. With a slightly tight smile she finally slid out of his cab. She briskly pushed her cart up and down the aisles tossing her purchases in. Somewhat to her surprise Driver made no attempt to check up on her. She grabbed a bottle of ice tea before heading out to the parking lot.

"Hey Driver," she called as she angled around to the rear of the pickup, "I'll just load these into your bed and we can go to the next stop."

"Acknowledged," his voice came over her earpiece.

The woman lifted the rear gate and turned to get the bag of groceries only to hear the smack of the gate closing again. She turned to frown at the device.

"Driver," she asked touching her earpiece lightly, "are you okay?"

"I'm functioning normally," he replied.

"Then why isn't your back flap working?"

"Is it supposed to be doing something?"

"Well, staying up for me to put the groceries in for one thing."

There was a moment of silence then the flap slowly rose. June shrugged it off and began to load the bags. She lowered the flap and returned the cart just as she was about to open the door a voice spoke up hesitantly.

"Nurse Darby?"

"Yes Driver?"

"Please understand that I am not questioning your orders at all, but I have a question."

"Driver, please feel free to question whatever I say," June entreated him, resting a hand on his hood; "I cannot think of a situation I would give you an order in. You are not my servant; I will only ever request things."

"Okay," Driver agreed a bit hesitantly. "It is just that Ratchet told me a lot that I'm not supposed to do anything my alt mode wouldn't be able to do."

"Yes, we don't want people noticing odd things about you," she agreed.

"But you order…I'm sorry, requested me to keep my back flap elevated and the vehicle I scanned couldn't do that." There was just a hint of trepidation in the deep voice and June winced at it. She felt a rising tide of anger aimed at the tyrant responsible for teaching this gentle soul such fear.

"The truck you scanned must have been damaged," she explained. "Most rigs like you have specialized hydraulics to do that sort of thing."

"I see. Sorry I inconvenienced you," the miner responded contritely.

"Don't be sorry," June said patting his hood. "These interactions are part of what makes living with Cybertronians so rewarding."

"Mrs. Darby," Driver suddenly interrupted her, "we are being observed."

June stiffened and glanced around. The source of Driver's concern was immediately apparent. Standing on the sidewalk by the store was a middle aged man in well loved jeans and a flannel shirt. He appeared somewhere in his mid forties with sky blue eyes and sandy hair contained by a brown wool cowboy hat. He was good looking enough that the woman's hand unconsciously rose to straighten her hair as he approached.

"Howdy, that wouldn't be a Diesel Rabbit would it?" the man hailed her with a knee weakening smile as he approached.

"That's what it looks like," she responded with a grin of her own.

"That's a good truck," the man offered with a far off look in his wistful eyes.

June's eyes almost of their own accord glanced down to confirm the empty space on the third finger of his left hand.

"I used to have a truck like that," the man continued as he reached up powerful hands to stroke the battered hood. "I miss that truck." There was regret and longing in his tone.

"Um, please don't touch the truck," June said suddenly coming to here self. She flushed a little at her mistake. When they were in human population centers it was their job to protect the Cybertronians. She shouldn't be letting this stranger feel up her charge.

The man looked at her in surprise, a little disappointment tainting his comely face.

"It's a loaner," June explained hurriedly; "belongs to a friend of mine. He's letting me borrow it until my car is out of the shop."

"Oh," the man said nodding, "that makes sense. But really," he flashed her that smile again. "Do you think that a man who drives this kind of rig," the man waved a hand to encompass the work worn pickup, "is going to object to an old construction hand giving it some love?"

"Nurse Darby?" Driver's voice came hesitantly over the Bluetooth, "I don't mind if he touches me. It's kind of pleasant."

June let out a small laugh and looked directly into the man's eyes.

"You are absolutely right; please feel free to touch as much as you want." '_Oh scrap_,' she thought frantically as the man's grin widened, '_that came out all wrong_.'

"Well you know these rigs do have one drawback," he confided leaning closer to her. "They need constant maintenance. It's not a problem if you know how to work on them, or," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, "if you know someone who does and would be willing to come over and help," those blue eyes twinkled, "anytime at all." With that the man laid his card on Driver's hood, removed his hat to bow to June and walked away.

"Mrs. Darby?" Driver asked with concern in his voice. "Did that man just threaten you somehow?"

"No!" she exclaimed picking up the card. "Why do you ask?"

"Your sparkbeat just shot through the roof, your internal temperature is rising, and your respiration has increased. Aren't those signs of stress?"

June laughed as she slid into the cab. She opened her bottle of tea and took a deep draught of the caffeinated beverage. She felt the rising tide of alertness and calm it always produced.

"Yes they are, but they are eustress symptoms not distress."

"Eustress?"

As the white pickup cautiously pulled out of the parking lot June took her time explaining the differences in useful and detrimental stress energy. She had wrapped up the conversation and was climbing out of the cab at the next stop when a voice called out behind her.

"Is that a Datsun?"


	14. Acclimation

Driver 14

Acclimation

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"They should be back by now," Ratchet fumed pacing back and forth.

"Easy old friend," Optimus soothed the medic without looking up from the computer. "If anything had happened to June the tracking sensor you left in her hairpiece would have alerted us by now."

Ratchet started and glanced up guiltily at the Prime. How did he know about that? As if reading his thoughts the Autobot leader turned to look at him with a patient smile.

"While I sympathize with your desire to ensure June's safety I would suggest obtaining her permission before utilizing such methods to trace her."

The Autobot healer gave an aggravated grunt and turned away from his leader; embarrassment creasing his faceplates. He'd thought the tracker had gone unnoticed. His discomfort was interrupted as Arcee rolled into the base and transformed.

"Is June back yet?" she asked trying to sound casual.

"Not yet," Ratchet barked shortly.

"Yeah, can't wait for her to get here, Docbot's been wearing a path in the floor," Miko offered from where she was hauling a trolley of various lubricants across the silo floor to where she was assisting, mostly willingly, in the repair of the Darby's white sedan.

"Ah, I was not," the medic protested, but he was cut off by the blaring of the proximity alarm. He glanced eagerly at the screen and then scowled as he recognized the signal.

"Fowler," he muttered.

"Indeed," Optimus acknowledged. "He said he would be coming to the base soon to finalize the paperwork for Driver."

The medic let out a harrumph and turned off the alarms shortly, only to have them flare to life again a moment later. His blue optics once more flicked eagerly over the display.

"There they are!" he called out in relief.

The battered white pickup pulled into the silo proper and June stepped out. It took an immense effort on Arcee's part to restrain herself from snatching the woman up right there and running a full battery of scans. To her surprise, and slight annoyance the nurse had a huge grin on her face and looked for all the world as if she had enjoyed herself immensely.

"Hey Mom!" Jack's voice called out as he stepped stiffly out into the silo proper. He was wearing his 'nice' clothes; a navy blue suit that had fit just a few weeks ago but now showed a bit too much wrist and ankle. He was knotting a long black tie as he approached. "Did you have a good shopping trip?"

"Oh yes," she confirmed with a particular grin.

Her son looked at her curiously but he had long ago learned not to question that expression.

"Great," he replied. "Bumblebee is taking us to the party. If Miko will get ready," he yelled over his shoulder.

"Hey! I've been working my fingers to the bone over here!" she snapped back. "I'll be ready in five."

"Nurse Darby," Ratchet asked, trying to hide his agitation, "may I ask why your trip exceeded the expected time frame?"

A huge grin split her face as the woman pondered her answer.

"Why yes you can Ratchet," she weighed her words carefully. "It would seem that Driver attracts a bit more attention than I expected."

"Attention?" The medic frowned and shot a sharp glance at the truck who was still sitting quietly beside the human.

"Yes," June thought for a moment then shrugged her shoulders and decided to get it out in the open. "Apparently he's a natural stud magnet."

"What?" Jack and Miko cried out in astonishment; Jack from hearing his mother use the term, Miko from trying to see the battered metal form as attractive in any way.

Ratchet scrunched his faceplates in perplexity. He didn't understand the term, and a basic entomological analysis made no sense. He continued to listen as June went on.

"Every time we stopped, some gentleman would come up and start the same conversation…"

"Prime! … Hey! Is that a Diesel Rabbit?" Fowler's voice cut off in mid tirade and suddenly took on a joyous note as he entered the silo.

June grinned and inclined her head toward the agent. Driver shifted a bit nervously before responding.

"Yes, I scanned it just outside the village I woke up in."

"Nice alt mode," the agent eyed the truck with obvious approval. "That's a good truck. I used to have a truck like that." The man's gaze grew far off and wistful. "I miss that truck."

"That," the woman said with a grin; pointing at the slightly bemused agent. "That was the very conversation I kept having."

"No way," Miko suddenly interjected. "I just can't believe that old truck brought the boys to the yard."

The nurse grinned at her and pulled three piece of paper out of her pocket.

"Then how about some proof?"

The slim Asian snatched the papers out of her hand and examined them carefully.

"Driver scored you three phone numbers?" she demanded incredulously.

"Yep, and decent quality goods at that," June confirmed. "All solid blue collar Joes."

The girl still looked unconvinced.

"You wouldn't understand," Fowler offered. "It's a guy thing. There's just something about a lady in a pickup truck." If his eyes lingered a bit too long on the lady in question the Cybertronians didn't notice.

Arcee was trying to follow the conversation but not having much luck. She turned to Jack for clarification only to find him off in a corner doing his best to ignore the whole thing. The cycle-bot shook her helm in frustration; humans could be so confusing sometimes.

Driver rolled back slightly and transformed. He glanced worriedly between the confused Autobots and the amused humans.

"I am sorry if my appearance caused problems for you," he offered contritely.

"No, no problems," June assured him with a wide grin. "Not even an inconvenience."

"Won't it take some time to contact the individuals who gave you their comm. codes?"

"Oh, I'm not going to contact them," the woman shrugged dismissively. "Miko, toss those for me will you?"

"Then why did you accept their information if you had no intention of contacting them?" The white mech asked in confusion. He wasn't the only one interested. Fowler looked quite attentive despite giving a bit too much deliberate attention to the paperwork he was shuffling.

"It's a rather complicated human tradition," June explained as the miner followed her across the floor. "If I had refused the contact information outright it would have been a fairly serious insult, indicating that I judged them completely unfit individuals as potential mates and they were all well within my primary standards. I'm just not interested at the moment. The standard response in that situation is simply to not contact them. If they don't get a response in seven days they know I'm not interested."

The confused look on the mech's faceplates indicated he still had questions but a suspiciously relieved looking Fowler hailed him and Optimus to come over and begin the current round of paperwork. Jack and Miko climbed hurriedly into Bumblebee and slipped out of the base while June was still distracted. A maneuver they had discussed earlier to avoid any picture taking by the mother. Once they were gone Arcee strolled over to June and awkwardly tried to start up a conversation. The nurse was tired but tried gamely to keep up her end. The Autobot finally realized how exhausted the woman was and offered to bridge her home. Driver came out of the conference and glanced at her blankly before picking up a bag of concrete from the floor.

Arcee tried to fight back the cold rage she felt on seeing the con walking free through the base, interacting with her humans. The Autobots had spent years building trust with the governments of Earth. They had bent over backwards to make sure the humans were not afraid of them. Over the eons of exile from Cybertron they had done their best to respect and protect every sentient life form they had encountered. Memories of thousands of battles, crouched in fear over injured comrades flitted through the femme's processor. The steep price paid to build the relationships they had. Now this Con; who had admitted to murdering thousands of organics, simply strolled up and reaped the dividends of their hard work.

The base suddenly felt stifling. With a flurry of movement the Autobot transformed and raced out into the night. She tore along the asphalt towards Jasper trying to shake the dull burning in her spark. Soon she began to regret leaving the base. Out in the quiet Nevada night her thoughts turned inward, examining her feelings. _Selfish,_ whispered a voice that sounded suspiciously like Jack's, _jealous_. Arcee drove faster. When, she wondered, had her conscience taken to sounding like the young human? _Unfair, _the still small voice continued, _he was forced. He is trying to make amends. He makes no excuses. _With a howl of fury the femme tried to reject the gentle logic as the glittering desert stars watched silently.

O

O

A sleek yellow muscle car rolled gracefully to a stop outside of the Darby's house. Jack staggered out with a huge yawn. He caught himself on the roof of the car as he leaned in to bid goodbye to the girl seated within.

"See you tomorrow at school Miko," he called out. "Thanks for the ride Bee."

"Maybe," the slim Asian replied with a groan over the Autobot's cheerful beeping. "Scrap and thunder, who knew Abuelita could party like that?"

"She's a remarkable woman," Jack agreed with a grin.

"You think they'll ever find the rest of the gerbils?"

"Hard to say, the python had everyone in a pretty good panic by then."

"Yeah, well night Jack."

"Night Miko."

The raven haired youth let himself into the house. He paused at his mother's door and peeked in, reassuring himself that she was safely asleep before going into the garage.

"Hey Arcee," he called out to the blue motorcycle parked against the wall. He frowned in worry when she didn't respond. "Arcee?" he asked tentatively as he reached out to tenderly stroke her saddle.

At the touch of his hand the Autobot leaned suddenly into him, almost throwing the human off balance. Unsure what this was all about but suspecting it had something to do with Driver, Jack remained silent and simply leaned into the cycle letting his hand rest on the living metal. Finally the blue form shifted away and turned her front end into the wall. Jack stepped back at the clear dismissal and went into the house. A few moments later he reappeared in his pajamas carrying a loose bundle of thick cloth and a foam pad. He unrolled the pad and sleeping bag in the exact middle of the floor between Arcee and the far wall and climbed in without a word. The tired human was almost asleep when he heard the metallic whirring of transformation. There was the sound of living metal rearranging itself and then Jack felt a warm silent presence at his back. A soft smile played at the corners of his mouth as he drifted off to sleep with the feel of Arcee's backstrut lightly touching his spine.

O

O

Driver quickly became a regular sight at the Darby household when he was not with Rafael. The small town of Jasper soon got used to June driving around in the battered white truck, which admittedly looked much better once Miko had badgered the mech to consent to a scrub down in the wash facility on the base. Arcee found that constant exposure to the meek and conscientious mech was slowly dissipating the hard feelings she was harboring. It was difficult to stay angry at somebot who so clearly was giving his all to serve and protect the humans under his care. She didn't want to admit how much it helped that out of respect for what Arcee was struggling with Jack kept the miner at arm's length, refusing rides even if Arcee was unavailable.

She had just gotten back from an especially long and boring energon patrol and was enjoying just cruising Jasper with Jack when her comm. sounded. The blue motorcycle's engine gave a frustrated growl into the evening air as she acknowledged.

"Arcee here. What _IS_ it Ratchet?"

"I am reading three energon signals in Jasper," the medic said urgently.

Arcee felt her energon run cold and Jack's grip tighten on her handle bars. She was here. Driver was escorting June on some sort of nurses' outing. Every other Cybertronian belonging to the base was either in the base proper or on another continent.

"Bridge Driver and June back to base now!" Arcee snapped. "Where is that third signal?"

"The unaccounted for signal is approximately a klick northeast of your current position," Ratchet informed her. "I'm bridging Optimus back from his patrol, but he is currently in a populated area and won't be able to reach a concealed location for some time."

"Understood," the cycle bot said grimly as she spun around and accelerated toward the coordinates. If that scrapping Con had betrayed them, there wouldn't be enough of him left to fit in her saddle bags.

O

O

Driver shifted uneasily in his parking space. The refueling station June was currently in with her fellow healers was not to his liking. He had dropped all six of his remaining sensor drones and still hadn't been able to cover all the exits. The level of noise and light coming from the crowded room behind the small windows made it impossible to keep a steady eye on the human. The group she was with had flatly refused to let her wear the Buletooth in. A particularly dominant female who went by Sandy had finally snatched the device off June's head and tossed it into the cab before ushering the weakly protesting nurse into the building.

When Ratchet radioed in warning of an unaccounted for energon signal nearby the miner barely restrained himself from transforming on the spot and physically extracting the human from the building. He calmed down a bit when the medic informed his that Arcee was inbound and closing fast. He ran several scenarios through his processor and conferred with Ratchet on how he might get the woman's attention. The two mechs had just about decided to send in one of the sensor drones when Miko took over the conversation with an exasperated sigh.

"Driver! What is the name of the restaurant?"

"Lamar's Family Dining," he replied in confusion. He heard papers being shuffled and the girl muttering through a list of names.

"Lamar's! There we go. Now I just call them and have the boss give Mrs. Darby a message for us."

There was silence on either end of the line as the simplicity of the plan sunk in. After a few moments…

"There! Mission accomplished," the girl cried out triumphantly. "The manager says she's on the way out now."

Driver immediately recalled his drones which rolled back into the carrying cases on his undercarriage. His optics eagerly tracked June as she walked briskly towards him in the dim evening light. She paused momentarily under a tall light source to reassure her companion that this was indeed an emergency. Sandy shook her head in exasperation and made some threat involving kidnapping June and a tropical island before returning to the party. The nurse resumed her course towards the white mech when it happened. There was a flash of silver and the place where June had been standing was empty.

_No. _

Ratchet was demanding an update over the comm. Arcee was adding her own voice to the request. But the miner sat dumbly in shock, for a moment refusing to believe what his optics were telling him.

_Primus please no, not her, don't let it be her._

"Driver! Report!" the medic's voice roared over the horrified fog in his processor.

"Driver please, is something wrong?"

It was the fear and concern in Jack's voice that snapped the white pickup out of his shock rather than the demanding shouts of the Autobot.

"She has June," the miner stated flatly steeling himself to face reality.

"Who? Who has her?" Ratchet cried out.

"Flight capable/drilling femme. Last known rank and assignment, first officer on the _Viper._ Designation Airachnid."


	15. Terror

Driver 15

Terror

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Terror gripped Arcee's spark as she accelerated faster towards the coordinates. She heard Jack's desperate wordless gasp of fear then felt his hands clench in fury. She spun around a corner and caught sight of a dark form ascending the side of a warehouse. Without a word Arcee slowed just enough for Jack to leap off and roll to safety. She transformed and leapt into the air firing off a series of warning shots above the spider-bot's head.

Airachnid hissed and leapt down into a cluttered lot. How had the Autobots found her so fast? She had been stalking this little town in what small amount of spare time Megatron allowed her for months in an attempt to find either Jack or June; either of which would have made a fine present for the Decepticon warlord and cemented her place as his trusted second in command. Here she had stumbled on June, out alone and unprotected, and Arcee shows up out of the blue to interfere.

"Move along Arcee," the spider bot called out in her sing-song voice. "Nothing to see here."

"Release her," Arcee snarled as she landed and crouched in a ready stance.

"Oh I can't do that," the Decepticon simpered. "You see I need this human. You should be happy I'm not taking my Jack."

"He is not yours," the Autobot hissed, "and neither is she."

"I beg to differ Arcee," Airachnid gave a careless laugh. "Haven't you heard what the humans say on this planet?" The Decepticon threw the unconscious woman over her shoulder and shifted to face the Autobot as she circled. She patted the still form smugly. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law."

So caught up in their own little drama, neither femme noticed the quiet approach of the battered white mech. His silver optics drank in the sight with equal parts pain and longing. Driver spotted Jack crouching in the shadows of a nearby building and moved to stand beside him. The young man jumped when he felt the gentle touch on his shoulder.

"Should I comm. her to ask if I should interfere?" the mech asked.

Jack considered the question. It made sense after a moment. Driver wasn't an Autobot, hadn't spent eons earning the trust of the warriors. If the white mech simply stepped out into the fray he could easily distract Arcee and let the spider-bot escape. Jack nodded but frowned. The look in the mech's optics was nothing short of heartbreaking. If he hadn't been so worried about his mother the human would have cornered the miner then and there for an explanation.

*Commander Arcee,* Driver broadcast as calmly as he could. *Please direct me to where I can be of assistance.*

He saw the slight stiffening as the Autobot received his message. Seconds dragged out as she verbally sparred with the Decepticon femme. The miner had about concluded she still distrusted him too much to risk his assistance in this situation when Arcee responded.

*Draw her attention to the northwest corner of the lot.*

The mech signaled he had heard and slid silently around the buildings, his spark clenching painfully with every step. Joy; she was alive after all hope had been lost. Dread; he would have to face her, to look into the violet optics again and witness afresh what she had become. Guilt; if he had only tried harder to sway her so long ago, if he had given her more love, spent more time with her, protected her from the tyrant, taken her away from it all. As he approached the designated location the miner shook off the ghosts of emotions and focused on the moment.

June Darby; mother, healer, friend was under his care and he had failed. There was no way he was allowing the monster that his beloved had become to get away with murdering another of his charges, or worse; surrendering her to Megatron. Bracing himself for the confrontation the mech stepped out into the moonlight on Arcee's signal. The plan was for the cycle-bot to move in the moment of distraction he afforded her. Nobot present was prepared for Airachnid's reaction.

Catching the movement out of the corner of her optic the Decepticon whipped around to face the new threat; and froze. Before Arcee could seize the moment the spider-bot screamed; not a battle cry, or rage, or betrayal, but a spark wrenching wail of pure terror and desperation. The femme flung the limp form of the human at the miner and transformed, shooting up and away into the night.

Driver had caught June easily and was carefully unwrapping her still form when Arcee stormed up to him. He heard the all too familiar hum of plasma rifles powering up. Slowly he raised his hands in a placating manner and stepped backwards away from the human. Jack ran up and began to check his mother's vitals.

"What was that about?" Arcee demanded venomously. "Why didn't you tell us you knew Airachnid? Why was she so frightened of you?"

"I do not know. You didn't ask. I have no idea," the mech stated simply, answering each question in turn. The blue femme frowned. The raw emotion that sat under the simple words only seemed to give them weight.

"Arcee," Jack interrupted urgently. "We need to get Mom back to base."

The Autobot hesitated, glancing between the agony she saw in the white mech and the pleading in Jack's eyes.

"Pick her up," she finally ordered the miner. "Primus help me if you so much as look at her funny…" the femme's threat trailed off. Partially because she needed to comm. Ratchet for a bridge, but mostly because it sounded absurd even in her audio receptors as she watched the white mech tenderly scoop up the senseless woman in his powerful arms. Grudgingly she admitted that it didn't make sense for the miner to be party to this. Airachnid knew what town to look for the Darbys in. It had really only been a matter of time before she found them. With a soft curse the warrior powered down her weapons as they walked through the swirling green portal. The scrapping mech made it so hard to hold a grudge.

Ratchet met them on the other side and wordlessly swept June from Driver's arms. He completed a cursory scan the moment she was on the hospital bed and let out a relieved sigh.

"It looks like Airachnid simply hit her with a low level electrical discharge," the medic informed his audience. "She should wake up shortly with no ill effects. Now, just to remove this webbing…"

O

O

"Now let's just remove this webbing," the Decepticon medic's voice stated dispassionately as he wielded a line welder to free the still form of the sensor scout.

To one side of the table stood a young white mech, silver optics blank. On the other; an obsidian black femme stood trembling. When the dark purple medic mech was finished he left without a word.

"Beloved," the femme whispered frantically, "I am sorry. I am so sorry."

The bulky white mech didn't respond. He leaned forward and tenderly scooped up the mutilated form in front of him.

"It wasn't my fault," the spider-bot pleaded for him to understand. "Megatron ordered me to do this. It was your punishment for attempting to defect. If I hadn't he would have simply offlined me first and then given the scout to somebot else to… to… torture." Her voice caught on the last word and she let out a horse sob.

Still the mech was silent. She could tell from the distance in his optics that he was deep in communication with his gestalt. The femme shivered; nearly a thousand optics watching, judging her. Offense rose on the heels of her guilt and she lashed out at the mech standing nearly as unresponsive as the offline form in his arms.

"Why did you idiots try to escape anyway? So what if a few organics perished. The commander had ordered them out of the area. This is war. It is for the great Decepticon cause!" her voice rose to a shriek of pain at the end. She didn't really believe these lies the mech dully realized, not yet.

Slowly his helm rose. He gave the black femme a sad smile that pierced her to the quick.

"Forgive me," she whispered staggering around the table to clutch at his arms. "Please, you must forgive me!"

The mech opened his arms to her and embraced the trembling femme.

"We forgive Airachnid," his voice stated softly, but it held the echoes of a thousand. "We love Airachnid. We understand Airachnid."

Even as she murmured her thanks ire grew in her spark. The fool couldn't think for himself, wasn't speaking for himself now but as a part of the gestalt. She wanted _him,_ not the rest of the dirty little miners.

O

O

"Driver!" Raf's voice snapped the mech back to the present. "Are you okay?" There was fear in the child's voice. "Bumblebee said you were in a fight with Airachnid."

"I didn't fight," the white mech knelt down to reassure the human, "and Airachnid left quickly." Almost before the mech knew quite what he was doing he had scooped up the boy and was cradling him tenderly to his chestplates.

Raf blinked in surprise. He could feel the powerful miner trembling against him.

"It's okay Driver," the boy said soothingly. "Mrs. Darby is going to be fine. Ratchet said so. Airachnid didn't hurt her."

The white mech nodded and tried to suppress his tremors for the child's sake. Old memories had no place here. The urge to reach out and reassure himself that his gestalt was alive had never been stronger. It took more inner strength than he knew he had to fight it. He didn't know if he could have had Raf not been curled up in his hands murmuring soft reassurances. A low moan from the medbay called his attention. He stepped up eagerly behind the Autobots clustered around the prone nurse.

"Nurse Darby," Ratchet asked softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was kicked in the head by a mule," she said ruefully, reaching a hand up to rub the back of her neck. Suddenly her eyes widened and she sat up fast. "Driver! Is he okay?"

The Autobots parted and the white mech stepped hesitantly forward. Relief spread over the woman's face as her eyes roved quickly over his powerful frame checking for any injuries.

"Are you okay?" she asked reaching out a hand.

Driver carefully met her half way and felt relief wash over him in waves as her hand clasped his servo. He didn't answer for a moment, simply smiling down at the woman and reveling in the double time tempo of her heartbeat. That was no doubt what he enjoyed most about his contact with the humans. Even the smallest of Cybertronians had armor that shielded their internal rhythms, but the fine, near transparent skin of the humans seemed to almost broadcast their life force.

"I am completely uninjured," he told her truthfully. "Airachnid left without fighting."

"Yes," Arcee suddenly interjected. "We need to talk about that."

"Ah! Not over my recuperating patient you're not," Ratchet growled. "Everybody out now!"

Reluctantly the Autobots filed out, Optimus lingering a moment to give the woman a last comforting word. When he reached the silo proper the tension in the air was thick. Bulkhead and Bumblebee stood to the side shifting nervously from ped to ped while Arcee glared silently at Driver. For his part the white mech was staring off into space while he absently stroked Raf's back.

"Driver," Optimus hailed him. "We need to talk."

"Yes," the miner replied, handing the human off to Bee with a reassuring smile. "Rafael, would you please leave the base?" he requested gently.

"But I want to stay," the human protested.

Bumblebee glanced up at his Prime and the red and blue mech nodded.

*Come on Raf,* the scout chirped. *Let's go, it's probably just boring classified stuff anyway.*

The boy nodded reluctantly and gave Drive one last reassuring smile before Bee transformed. Obeying a silent order from Optimus the yellow muscle car made a short stop by the medbay and opened his door for Raf to call out to Miko. When the girl leaned in to answer the seatbelts pulled her in with yelp and the car accelerated out of the base.

"What do you want to know?" Driver asked flatly once the two younger children were gone.

"Why didn't you tell us you knew Airachnid?" Arcee demanded harshly. "Have you been in communication with her?"

"I didn't think to tell you because I didn't think it mattered," the miner said looking straight at the cycle-bot. Her optics fell away under his guileless gaze. "Until I saw her capture June, I thought…" his voice caught and the mech's gaze became helpless, "I thought she was offline," he finally whispered.

"How did you come to know Airachnid?" Optimus asked gently.

"She was the aerial scout assigned to our construction brigade fairly early in the war," the mech explained. "The scientists assigned as our medic was fond of experimentation. She volunteered for one of his projects; to be reformatted for drilling as well as flight and I was supposed to help her adjust. We," the mech hesitated and glanced at the floor. There was so much he couldn't tell them; so much that words were simply incapable of expressing. "We grew sort of close," he finished, the words sounding weak in his audioreceptors, they were so inadequate. "I think that is why Megatron later made her my gestalt's overseer."

A low hiss filled the room as the Autobots stiffened.

"Your unit had an overseer," Arcee asked in shock. "Why didn't you say that before?"

"What difference would it have made?" Driver asked curiously.

"It makes a huge difference," the cycle-bot protested. "You must have tried to defect. Only the most defiant Con's were assigned permanent overseers."

"I'm not certain my victims would have agreed with you," the mech stated flatly.

Silence fell on the small group as his words sank in.

"At the start we didn't really care what side we were on," the mech went on because he could sense they wanted some explanation. "We just did what we were told; provided materials for the Decepticon cause. Then the assignments got more aggressive; we undermined Autobot structures, laid traps. Still we didn't think of deserting until our first off world assignment. Airachnid was assigned to us by then. We, I, had grown close to her," the mech stopped and shifted a bit before continuing.

"We destroyed an entire civilization that mission. The planet was rich in energon but their air defenses were strong. We were dropped away from the population center. They only had one major city. We followed orders; drill this way and that, place the explosives there and there, not thinking about the end result. When we were done we were told to burrow down out of the range of the explosions. When it was over we came to the surface for retrieval." The mech was openly shaking now, optics on the floor, unable to look at the Autobots.

"We saw them there. Organics; not like the humans; smaller, rounder, fuzzy. Their bodies were scattered all around. I still have no idea how many deaths I caused that day. The few who survived the initial chaos would have had to face the destruction of their entire infrastructure, volcanic activity that turned the sky black. That was the first time my unit ever received a name. They called us the gods of Death."

A pin drop could have been heard in the silence that followed.

"When we got back to Cybertron we tried to run. The plan was to make for the dark deeps where the Decepticons couldn't follow us, but I guess they expected that, they were ready. Before we had gotten any distance they had recaptured one of the sensorr scouts. I can only suppose they chose one of them because they are the most sensitive. They feel pain the best. They gave him to Airachnid and we watched as the femme we thought loved us tortured him to death."

"Whenever we disobeyed, refused an order the task of disciplining us fell to her. Finally it was her who did this," the mech indicated the gouge on his face, "the infection that was supposed to offline us permanently when we were no longer of use." When his tale was complete a massive shudder ran through the mech's frame.

Bulkhead squirmed uncomfortably, wanting to offer some comfort to the miner but not knowing if it was even possible. What could he say? 'Gee, I'm sorry you're a mass murder.'? The white mech forced himself to lock optics with the Prime.

"I am sorry I didn't tell you about her sooner but I thought she was offline. She must have escaped the _Viper's_ destruction somehow."

"There is nothing for you to apologize for Driver," Optimus said softly, reaching out to rest a hand on the smaller mech's shoulder, "and I doubt this information would have assisted us in any case. We must simply be all the more diligent in safeguarding our human charges in the future."

The white mech nodded mutely but shifted uneasily out from under the touch. Calling up the memories had left him feeling dirty. The Prime's compassion burned like fire across his spark.

"She knows I'm online now," the mech pointed out uneasily. "Will that put June in any danger?"

"No more than she already is I'm afraid," Optimus replied.

"There's still the question of why she reacted the way she did to you," Arcee pointed out. "She was terrified of you."

"I have no idea why," the mech said sincerely. "I would have thought she thought me offline."

"Maybe that's it," Bulkhead suggested. "Maybe she'd afraid of ghosts. She is more than a little…" the green mech twirled his servos around his audio receptors in demonstration.

"Whatever the cause for her reaction we are grateful you were there to elicit it," Optimus said gravely. "Had she been driving her car this night might have ended very differently."

Grim silence fell once more. Even after her kidnapping at the hands of MECH the Autobots had somehow felt that June was untouchable going back and forth about her daily life. Maybe it was some faint memory of an earlier time in the war when even the Decepticons hesitated to assault a medic. But now they realized what their lax attitude had nearly cost them.


	16. Taken

Driver 16

Taken

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"You put a tracker on me without my permission?" June's voice cut through the silo low and fierce.

"Nurse Darby," Ratchet tried to sound soothing but the discomfort was evident in his voice. "I was merely attempting to assure you safety. As it has been so harshly shown you are in more danger than we realized."

"I don't care if I was being stalked by Megatron himself," the woman stated in a deadly calm voice. "In the future you will ask before implementing any,"

A brief smile flickered across Optimus's faceplates as he half listened to the heated conversation coming from the medbay. Not for the first time he thanked Primus for bringing the woman into their lives. For far too long the Autobot medic had been surrounded solely by warriors. The Prime had watched in concern as the emotional and intellectual isolation had worn on his oldest friend, honing a naturally sharp wit to an acerbic edge and crystallizing an appreciation for solitude into an aversion to personal contact. Having another healer in residence was as soothing a balm for the medic's spark as it was inspiration for his processor. Optimus had been nothing short of astounded at how the stoic medic was opening up to the human. It was a distinct bonus that the human in question possessed a will strong enough to stand up to Ratchet's own.

"Bulkhead, I have the coordinates for your next energon scouting mission," the Prime said, working to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Sure thing boss bot," the burly ex-Wrecker called out cheerfully as he accepted the data packet the Prime sent him.

Cheerful whistling called the Prime's attention to the young yellow mech who had just strolled into the silo holding Raf.

"No Bumblebee," the Autobot leader replied. "There are no missions that currently require your attention. You are free to spend the day with Rafael."

The Prime's pronouncement was greeted with happy shouts from both of the youngsters.

*Let's go get Driver so we can explore those caves under Haunted Bluff,* Bumblebee suggested eagerly.

The cave system in question was a favorite with the three as it contained many twisting passageways large enough to admit the two Cybertronians. Raf and the scout had discovered it months ago but it had been off limits before due to the ever present danger. The boy had told Driver about it; sighing longingly about being unable to explore the mysterious passageways and the mech had offered to assess the safety. Raf had gotten permission from his mother to join the computer club's new spelunking chapter. Mrs. Esquivel thought it very sweet the interest her little boy was developing in mining but had demanded to meet the leader of the cave expeditions. After a little frantic scrambling Mrs. Darby had met up with Raf's mother as the newly promoted head secretary of the Jasper Caves Club and the two had had a nice video conference with Cy Driver, who was out of town at the moment. Safety concerns more than satisfied by the conscientious Mr. Driver, Mrs. Esquivel had given her blessing to the endeavor and the three friends had spent many happy hours exploring the semi-legendary network of limestone caverns.

"Maybe this time we'll see the ghosts," Raf offered as they went to collect the white mech.

*I hope so!*

"Driver!" Raf called out eagerly when he spotted the Cybertronian hauling a steel beam down a hallway. "Do you want to come explore the Haunted Bluff with us?"

"There is nothing I would enjoy more," the mech replied, "but I just poured two yards of fresh concrete in storage bay seven and it will take at least another three hours to properly finish the task."

"Oh," disappointment was clearly evident in the boy's voice and his companion's whistles. "Can we help you?"

A knowing smile flickered across the white mechs faceplates. Trying to determine the emotional state and desires of a friend was difficult for one so used to being able to feel his brothers' emotions before they did but he was learning. Now the question was how to send the two younglings off to play without offending their sense of duty.

"Actually this is a one mech job," Drive explained, "and I am reasonably certain that humans require more sunlight than you have been getting recently to remain healthy."

*Hey! He's right!" Bumblebee trilled, his optics widening in distress. *we need to get you outside! Right now!*

"Take it easy Bee!" Raf laughed, "another five minutes won't kill me. We can go racing out by the old rail terminal. Plenty of sunshine there."

"See you when you get back," Driver called out as they left.

The miner was just finishing smoothing the repaired section of floor when he heard a shuffling noise behind him; the soft tick of metal peds on concrete.

"Commander Arcee," he acknowledged without turning.

"Driver," she replied awkwardly. "I came to see if you needed any help."

"The job's almost done," he said with a shrug, not sure why the usually hostile femme was here but sensing an undefined need in her presence, "not much left to do, but you can start gathering up the dirty tools to wash if you want."

The blue Autobot nodded mutely and bent to pick up the neatly placed instruments. They were so primitive she mused, made of crudely carved wood and poorly refined metals, but the white mech wielded them with the same respect as if they had been the finest artisan implements to come out of Praxis. She let her blue optics roam over the new section of concrete he had just finished. Every inch showed the care he put into his work. The new material was textured to look and feel like the old so that when he was done there would be no sign that the damage had even existed; no scars. Her gaze shifted almost unwillingly to the mech's frame and the irony nearly choked her. How many of those scars were from honest labor she wondered? How many were the results of her own kind attacking that purple symbol on his chestplates? How many came from Airachnid, the femme he had loved?

Driver finished smoothing the last section and turned down a corridor without a word. They walked together in silence until they reached the wash bay. Without a word the white mech began hosing the rapidly drying crete mix off of the tools.

"I'm sorry," Arcee finally blurted out.

The mech glanced in surprise at the tools she was carrying as if expecting them to be broken. His silver optics sought her out and she could read the silent question in them.

"For doubting you," she explained hurriedly. "You have been trying your best to help out everyone around here and I've, well I haven't made it easier for you."

The mech returned to washing the trowel in his servos with a dismissive shake of his helm.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he said flatly. "You have shown me no cruelty."

"But I haven't shown much kindness either," Arcee replied, a little ruffled that her apology was being refused. "And I haven't given you much of a chance."

Driver kept on silently washing the tools for a moment. Finally he turned on the Autobot with a grim look set on his face plates.

"No Commander. You were right to doubt me. I don't know how, I just can't understand why your Prime treats me like he does. For as long as I've worn this," he touched the purple emblem on his chestplates like it was some revolting growth, "I have been your enemy. That my spark knew to cry out with each life I took. That I knew it was wrong. Only makes my crimes all the worse. I cannot trust myself. It was kind of nice in fact to have you around. The others' treatment was, weird."

"Because I acted just like a Decepticon," the cycle-bot said with a hint of bitterness in her voice, "and you were used to that."

The white mech shrugged and reached out his hand for the tools she was holding. Arcee handed them over one at a time.

"Look," she said as they neared the end of the washing. "Optimus is never arbitrary. He knew what he was doing when he trusted you and I should have trusted him. What you did under the Decepticons is in the past. You can't change it, but you can and have made new and better choices." She laid a now empty hand on the white mech's broad shoulder. "I know I can never understand what it is to be part of a gestalt but I understand what it is to have someone you love tortured right in front of you. I," Arcee hesitated as the story, still a raw memory caught in her vocalize. "I too was captured by Airachnid. I can't honestly compare it to what you experienced, there was no betrayal in it for me. I never loved her. But I watched her kill my partner. She wanted a set of coordinates and the only thing that I could think of was that I would give them to her if it would save Tailgate." Her voice broke and her optics fell away from the mech. "Of all of us I should have been the first to welcome you," she murmured. "Perhaps I didn't because you reminded me so much of what I would have done if I could."

Suddenly the femme felt a presence near her. She glanced up and to her surprise found Driver directly in front of her staring at her with those disconcerting silver optics. Arcee had the sudden idea he was about to try and hug her and shifted backwards a bit.

"I guess what I'm trying to say," she wound up uneasily, "Is that you can't let your past weigh you down. It will never stop being a part of you, but it's the choices you make from here on out that matter."

"I have been making the same choices for millennia," Driver responded flatly. "The Decepticon's controlled me because they knew my price. What if they discover it again?"

Arcee hesitated, unsure how to answer that, and an awkward silence filled the chamber around them.

"No one can know the future," the femme finally said gently clasping his arm firmly, "but right now all I can see is a mech doing his best to make certain that those weaker than him are safe and cared for; a mech who is always putting the needs of others before himself, a mech who always tells the truth even if it is painful."

A look of terrible guilt convulsed the miner's faces plates and he shifted out from under her touch. His servos sought the floor.

"I…thank you Commander, Arcee. If you really think you require my forgiveness then I freely give it."

"Good," she said quickly; glad to end the painful conversation. "Let's put these tools away."

"Wait," Driver said urgently clasping her arm with surprising strength. "I. I have something to ask you."

"Ask away," Arcee said with curiosity.

"The children, June; they mean everything to me now. I would never harm them or do anything to bring harm to their world," the battered white mech said with such earnestness that it hurt. "But the Decepticons knew my price, that can't happen again," his eyes shifted away from her face and an indefinable emotion stiffened his entire frame.

Arcee laid a hand over his on her arm in comfort and waited for him to continue.

"But now I have them," he said urgently and his silver optics found hers again urging her to understand, "and Airachnid knows I'm here. Please, you, I was counting on you, to, to."

Understanding dawned on the femme like a splash of cold water. What the mech thought of himself, what he was asking of her. Pity gripped her spark. For the first time she truly saw it; the damage that had been done to such a gentle spark. Driver should never have been involved in this war, should have remained an innocent. Without thinking she reached out and gripped both sides of his wide helm, feeling the rough, scarred mesh under her servos. Arcee lowered her own helm until their foreheads touched.

"You have my word Driver," she stated grimly, "I will never let you hurt or betray our humans." She felt the mech suddenly relax beneath her touch and a shudder of relief run through him. The femme pulled away just far enough to look him in the eyes and pinned him with her blue glare. "Do you know what would hurt them the worst?" she demanded, "especially Raf? Any form of betrayal or one of us hurting another. So I'm not going to let that happen."

A smile of surrender flitted across the mechs faceplates and he shook his head as she released him.

"Was there some sort of mass program download that makes all Autobots give impossible promises?" he asked.

"Hey," the femme stepped away from him with a smile. "We're not the ones who claim that it's possible to achieve peace through tyranny."

"Fair enough."

The two Cybertronians walked back towards the silo proper.

"So, how was your patrol today?" Driver asked politely.

"Uneventful," she said with a sigh. "I came across a bunch of miner class Cons wrapping up a mine they had just finished stripping they'll probably be there for another few hours wrapping up the operation but there was nothing left for us to grab."

"You didn't bridge out today," the white mech said a frown of worry on his faceplates.

"No, why?"

"So they are close?"

"About forty miles due north of here," she said with a shrug. Then her mouth twitched up as she realized his thoughts. "And about sixty miles north of where Bee and Raf are playing."

She watched as the miner visibly relaxed. He was easy to read she mused as they entered the silo. Apparently in all those eons he a never mastered the Deception part of being a Con.

Optimus watched the two walking along together and felt a glow of pleasure. He had been patiently waiting for his second in command to overcome her own pain and reach out to the newest member of their little family. His train of thought was interrupted by a tentative communications ping.

*Optimus?*

*Acknowledged Bumblebee.*

* Ah, I think I need a little help,* there was something sheepish in the scout's tone.

*What manner of assistance do you require?*

*I'm stuck.*

*Stuck?* Optimus inquired a frown forming on his faceplates.

*It's kind of complicated,* the yellow mech responded, *but my arm is pinned in some concrete and steel and,* there was a pause as the scout sent him a data packet containing his internal diagnostics, *I'm leaking a little energon. Look, it's not that bad but Raf is getting worried,* he hurried on, *just bridge Driver to our location he'll know what to do.*

*Bumblebee, help is on the way,* Optimus said calmly as his servos flicked over the main computer consol.

"Arcee, Driver! Bumblebee has had an accident and requires assistance. His arm is pinned in an unstable structure and he is leaking energon."

"How much?" asked the femme as she turned to stride towards the groundbridge.

"Enough that we can detect it from here," Optimus vocalized to her as he transmitted the data Bee had sent him to Driver. The white mech nodded and responded that he didn't need any tools to free the scout.

"If we can detect it so can the Con's," Arcee said grimly. "Let's hope you can work fast Driver."

O

O

"Are you sure it isn't safe Bee," Rafael asked in an agony of worry. The boy bounced uneasily from foot to foot as he stared across the cracked ground at his friend. He couldn't see the scout's faceplates but it looked like he was in pain.

Bumblebee was laying faceplates down in a shattered section of concrete. His right arm was invisible. Held tightly by the broken crete and twisted steel beneath him. They had been racing the little yellow remote controlled cars when Raf's had lost control and shot under a fence decorated with multiple battered warning signs. The scout had jumped the tall fence without a pause and walked over to retrieve the toy. He was just about to pick it up when they both heard the crack. Bee had thrown himself flat to distribute his weight, that saved him from destroying more of whatever was shattering beneath him but his arm had gotten wedged in the center of several huge chunks of the material. The long rusty rebar that reinforced the platform had pierced a sensitive joint leaving the scout unable to move for fear of injuring himself further.

*Any little shift could start another collapse,* the yellow mech warned him. *I'm going to call Base. Driver will have me out of here in no time. You just stay there and hope no news teams show up!*

Raf chuckled a little at the joke.

"The cameras do love you Bee."

The scout had just finished briefing Optimus when an all too familiar sound filled his audioreceptors.

*Raf! Run for the buildings!* He whistled frantically, trying to twist around and confirm his fears, for the moment forgetting about the damage to his arm. A sharp tear reminded him. He tried to radio base but as he expected the signal was blocked.

"Bee, what's wron, Ah!"

The Autobot's spark clenched at the cry of surprise and fear and burned with rage at the voice that followed it.

"Well well, what have we here," Knockout simpered as he circled the vulnerable mech. "it appears to be a great day for catching bugs! And here I was just idly scouting around for a race. This town is good for them you know. You human friend seems smaller than I remember tho."

*Let him go Con!* the scout raged. *It's me you want!*

"Oh but you Bots are so much fun when you are worried about your precious little pets. And as it looks like it would be a bit dangerous to get close enough to you to enjoy myself properly I'll just have to see what I can do from here."

Raf gave a chocked cry as the sleek servos tightened around him.

*Stop it!* Bumblebee shrieked out.

Knockout smiled as a groundbridge appeared.

"Well it seems Lord Megatron wants you brought in alive. That would be my reinforcements arriving. Where are yours?"

As if on cue a second swirling portal appeared on the other side of the mech.

"Well that answers that question," Knockout said cheerfully as he loped towards the first. "I'm not really looking for a fight today so I'll just turn this little treat over to Lord Megatron for him to deal with." With that the sleek mech disappeared over the event horizon.


	17. Plots

Driver 17

Plots

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Optimus stepped out into the hot Nevada sun to the sound of screaming. The youngest member of his team was writhing with more than pain as he desperately tried to free himself from the grip of the concrete and steel. Blue flecks of energon stained the concrete around him and dark stains indicated more had spilled underneath.

"Bumblebee be still!" the Prime ordered sternly.

The sound of his voice seemed to calm the yellow mech somewhat. The scout went limp and lay trembling on the ground.

*Knockout took Raf!* he trilled out frantically.

"What!" Arcee demanded. "Where?"

*Through the groundbridge. To the Nemesis! Hurry! We have to go after him! Pull me out of here!*

"Calm yourself Bumblebee," the Prime commanded gently and firmly. "If Rafael has indeed been taken to the Nemesis our best course of action is to return to base immediately. The quickest way for us to achieve that is for you to lie still while we extract you."

The yellow scout weakly chirped in obedience and the Prime nodded to Driver. The white mech went down into a crouch and carefully circled the trapped Autobot, caressing the cracked concrete with his servos. Every so often he gave an experimental stomp. Suddenly he stood without a word and turned away from Bee. The mech ran out about seven yards and transformed.

It transpired so swiftly that Arcee had a hard time following the change, but instead of the boxy truck the miner became a drill. One moment he held the most basic bipedal protoform the next he was, different. In the few nano-cycles the form was visible before it dove gracefully into the ground the femme was reminded of one of the aquatic mammals Jack had shown her on the television, a dolphin he had called it. Every movement was nearly artistic in its execution as the mech slipped almost noiselessly through the compacted minerals leaving little sign he had been there at all. A faint vibration was all they had to trace the miner's movement as he took a zigzagging course towards the trapped scout.

Bumblebee suddenly let out a chirp of surprise as the concrete beneath him began to heave and surge. Without warning the blocks pinning the rebar to his joint crumbled to powder.

*Don't move!*

The scout recognized Driver's signal and obeyed as searing white laser light flashed rapidly and the steel thrust into his joint was cut about a hand span from his mesh. The surging of the concrete continued for a moment more, then he felt two powerful arms underneath him, lifting him up.

Optimus and Arcee watched in amazement as the two mechs rose smoothly out of the ruble, Driver carefully supporting Bee's upper body with his while the miner's lower frame spun seven different ways. When his lower extremities were finally clear of the rubble he transformed the rest of himself and calmly shook the dust from his peds as he helped the scout to safety leaving almost no trace of his passage behind.

Their brief amazement at Driver's display of skill was soon over whelmed by concern for Bumblebee. Blue fluid was rapidly staining his side where the steel still protruded and pain was evident on his faceplates. Worse was the frantic, near mad look that seemed to be hovering just behind his wide optics. Arcee took his other side and they hustled him into the groundbridge as Optimus covered their retreat.

"Get him to the medbay!" Ratchet ordered.

*No!* Bumblebee whistled out. *I need to start looking for Raf now!*

"I am already scanning every frequency possible for any sign of the Nemesis Bumblebee," the medic said grimly. "You rushing off in this state will not do Raf or anyone else any good. Driver, please go get my line welder from storage bay three and contact Nurse Darby."

*What good will scanning do?*

The white mech nodded and jogged off as Optimus herded the still protesting scout into the medbay. He returned with the requested item just in time to see the Autobot leader gently push the younger mech down onto the med berth.

"Bumblebee, I do not think Raf is in any immediate danger," the Prime stated. "Megatron knows all too well his value to them alive and unharmed. While it is possible that Ratchet may find their signal I believe it is far more likely that the Decepticons will be contacting us long before that outcome. When that occurs I will need all of my mechs at full strength to react to whatever deal they offer us. Bumblebee," Optimus paused with a hand on the scout's good shoulder, "we will get him back."

The yellow mech slumped and nodded as Ratchet began to carefully examine the puncture wound. The medic paused only briefly when June called. He assured her there was no immediate danger but she would probably want to be here for when Raf returned. The woman promised to get there as soon as her shift was over.

As he continued repairing the damage he regretted not summoning the nurse more urgently. The thrashing Bee had done had severely damaged the shoulder joint. A human's delicate hands were far more adapt at these small repairs. Also there was the pain in the scout's face. The gruff medic found himself growing more and more irritated with every glance at Bumblebee's downcast optics. The pain he couldn't dull, the wound he couldn't heal. It surprised the medic; how much he had come to rely on the nurse's calming spirit. Outside the medbay he could feel the tension increasing as Arcee and Bulkhead paced back and forth furiously, waiting for Megatron to contact them and make his demands. So it was with undisguised relief that he greeted the woman when she bridged in at the end of the day.

"Nurse Darby if you would take over here I am needed in the command center," the medic said briskly.

The woman nodded and gave Bumblebee a frightened smile. Immediately the yellow mech responded, reaching out a servo to stroke June's face as he trilled reassuringly. Ratchet shook his helm as he went to assist his Prime. The woman had an amazing ability.

"Wait Ratchet!" she called out just as he stepped out of sight.

"Yes Nurse Darby?" he asked leaning around the corner.

"Where's Driver?"

"Probably back fixing something somewhere," the medic said with a sigh. "That's what he does when he's feeling guilty about something."

"Could you get him for me please? I could use his assistance."

'And he could use your presence,' the red and white Autobot thought to himself with a smile.

"I will find him for you," he said aloud. The medic walked briskly down the corridor to the repair sight he knew was next on the mech's list but to his surprise found it still damaged and empty. He tried the miner's quarters next but had no luck there either. With a frown the Autobot triggered his comm. "Ratchet to Driver, Nurse Darby requires your assistance." Disturbing silence was the only reply. With a growing sense of disquiet Ratchet activated the tracking device he had injected into the miner. He followed the signal to the far side of the base only to find the device sitting by a wall.

*Optimus,* the medic radioed grimly, *I think you need to come see this."

O

O

The Prime examined the section of wall closely. There was almost no sign of disturbance; almost.

"That scrapping Con!" Bulkhead was snarling. "After we trusted him…"

"We do not know that he has betrayed us," Optimus interrupted the warrior firmly, "and as the Nemesis has not yet initiated an air strike on our location I find it difficult to believe he has. Also there is the question of how he plans to contact the Nemesis in the first place as he possesses no long range communication equipment and presumably has as little knowledge of its present location as we do.. "

The green mech reluctantly agreed with the Prime's logic.

"Optimus is right," Arcee stated grimly. "It's far more likely that Driver has gone off to rescue Raf on his own. You all saw how much he cared for him."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Bulkhead said in confusion.

"Driver was always the first to admit that he folds easy if someone he cares about has been captured," the blue femme snapped, "and Airachnid knows how to work him. You've never experienced that Bulk. You don't know. If she gets her talons into him he will break, she will learn everything he knows."

"Perhaps Arcee," Optimus said, laying a calming hand on her shoulder, "but as you said Driver knows his own weaknesses. We must for now trust he has a plan."

Arcee nodded weakly for a moment then her helm shot up.

"The drilling site! That is how he plans to get on the ship!"

O

O

Driver really wished he had a better plan as he barreled down the highway as fast as his altmode would take him. Somewhere in the back of his processor was a little ball of guilt. The others would suspect he had or was going to betray them. He had in a sense betrayed them when he left without telling anyone. He was, after all, still a prisoner technically. But the vague plot he had hatched was risky at best and full of so many variables the Prime would never have allowed it, and he had to save Raf. He knew what happened to small, helpless, innocent beings that fell into Decepticon hands. He knew that every second counted.

He neared his destination and transformed as he stepped off the highway. The mech summoned the wall of indifference that had protected him for so long among the Decepticon ranks and walked down into the secluded valley. For a few moments he hid among the boulders and watched the miners come in and out of the cave carrying the various implements of their trade. He studied them. Unlike his gestalt these individuals were warriors who had been retrofitted for mining. He would not last long in a direct confrontation. A shrill signal went out.

*All miners begin final cleanup and report for groundbridge back to Nemesis,* the foremech called out over the radio.

Driver could hear the happy chatter that passed between the mechs as they began selecting their loads. He felt a wave of indefinable emotion wash over him. It wasn't exactly nostalgia; he had no fondness for his time among the Decepticon ranks, but a sense of familiarity, of belonging. The mech shook it off and walked calmly out into the clearing. He picked up a large pile of equipment and started for the groundbridge coordinates.

"Halt! What is your designation?" the harsh inquiry was punctuated by the sounds of a plasma rifle humming to life.

"Miner lead mech 7.3, no designation…" Driver purposely let his voice trail off in confusion at the end, wincing internally at the lie, yet another lie.

"There is no such mech assigned to my crew," the foremech snarled, running his optics suspiciously over the battered old frame. "And if you're a gestalt mech where's the rest of your team?"

"Offline," Driver stated flatly.

The lanky purple mech who held the rifle trained on him frowned.

"What's your assignment mech?"

"Mining and construction crew: Attack class Decepticon vessel _Viper_: Commander Dreadlock."

The mech's frown only deepened. The required codes the strange mech had broadcast along with the information were dated but if he was from the _Viper _that made sense. The ship had been lost in this sector centuries ago. The data packet the white mech provided with the spoken information was confusing but a lone gestalt member posed little threat. If this bot had just awoken from stasis that would explain his multiple injuries.

Driver stood silently with a confused look on his faceplates praying to Primus that his plan would work. He had purposely mis-transformed drilling out of the base so his frame was covered in fresh damage. Drying energon leaked down his scoured mesh. With luck the fresh damage would mask the recent repairs. The foremech finally shook his helm and triggered his comm. In a situation like this the best course of action was always to pass the buck up the chain of command. In a few moments the reply came back.

"Alright mech," the purple Con growled. "Help load up the gear."

Driver nodded obediently and hiked up his armful of gear. He took his place in the scattered gathering waiting and the groundbridge appeared. Dread filled his spark at the sight of the miners walking through the swirling vortex. How many times had he watched his crew step out of the battle field only to be greeted by harsh and arbitrary punishments on the other side? No, he couldn't think like that. Raf was on the other side. Forcing one ped to move at a time the mech walked over the event horizon.

O

O

"Mining and construction crew: Attack class Decepticon vessel _Viper_: Commander Dreadlock." The confused voice played out over the bridge of the Nemesis. Megatron frowned. The Viper had been lost in this sector some centuries ago but the timing was suspicious to say the least. Still, the Warlord had spent millennia observing Optimus Prime and this did not have the Autobot's mark on it. It was odd for a single gestalt member to outlive his fellows but being in stasis when they offlined might explain it. The experiments they had run had proven it was not impossible.

"Have him escorted to Knockout for a full examination," Megatron instructed finally, an interesting problem but inconsequential. Even if the mech was on a mission of sabotage he would be unable to complete it under Soundwave's surveillance, still no need to be careless. "I want to know everything there is to about this miner."

Soundwave turned silently and sent the proper orders out. Megatron returned his attention to the screen displaying one of the brig cells and a small mass of organic matter huddled in the corner. A cruel smile blossomed on the mech's face. It had been fortuitous that the vain grounder's search for entertainment had led to the capture of the human. The Decepticon was well aware of how much the Autobots cared for small helpless things. This human especially was guaranteed to garner their sympathy. But he would wait and bide his time. The longer the child was subjected to his tender mercies the more frantic, the less logical their reaction would be. The Decepticon leader turned away from the screen which automatically deactivated behind him. There were other matters to attend to.

O

O

Raf sat in the corner of his cell with his arms wrapped around his knees and his face buried in his knees shivering. Like his previous trips to the Nemesis the temperature was well below the human comfort zone. Unlike his previous trips he didn't have a mission to take his mind off the discomfort and instead of running from room to room he was trapped in this cell certain he was being monitored.

Knockout had been rough. Rafael suspected that the only reason the vain mech had held back at all was to prevent the human from bleeding on his finish. As it was the boy was covered in red marks that promised to turn into spectacular bruises tomorrow and he was pretty sure his ankle was sprained. Without once acknowledging the humans cries to be heard the gleaming maroon mech had presented him to Megatron. The boy had glared defiantly but silently up at the Con for all the good it did. Those burning red optics had flicked over him once dismissively. Clearly such a small organic was of no concern in of itself, but then Raf had heard Knockouts sycophantic voice suggest that he was a useful hostage and had seen the corresponding gleam in Megatron's optics. The lord of the Decepticons had sneeringly ordered that the fleshling be kept alive until his usefulness was at an end. Raf had then been passed from underling to underling until he had been roughly thrown in the room he now crouched in.

Pride kept him from crying but he was terrified. Once Miko had badgered Bulkhead into telling them some of the things Decepticons did to the prisoners. It had gotten pretty bad before Jack had come in and stopped the gruesome story time. Now Raf wished Jack had come in sooner. The things Bulk had told them kept running through his head. He kept telling himself that the Autobots were coming for him. Soon Bumblebee would come busting through the door and carry him to safety. He kept that thought running through his head to combat the pain.


	18. Reunion

Driver 18

Reunion

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Driver walked down the dark grey corridors of the Nemesis pouring his strength into his cover. He was supposed to be confused, damaged, afraid. The last two weren't difficult. The cold grey walls seemed so much more menacing than he remembered without the comfort of his gestalt. He once again resisted to urge to reach out for them; stronger than ever in this familiar place. Fear came easily here, from so many different directions. Confusion however was hard. He might be a little sketchy on the long term plan but he knew what the next step was and the mech would complete his task. He felt his mask of confusion slip as a determined look tried to fix itself on his faceplates. Fortunately his guards and the others he passed were far too wrapped up in their own concerns to even notice his emotional state.

What concerned him most was the ship itself. He could sense the slumbering titan; half aware of what transpired in his hull, half deep in dreamless stasis. There was potential for his half formed plan there, and great danger. Driver's sensitive equipment detected another presence as well; swift and fleeting the awareness flashed over him and then was off. That must be Soundwave. The dark silent mech was legendary in the fleet. None dared cross him. Driver must not act while he watched.

The security mechs escorted him into the medbay and took up guard positions at the door. Driver stepped hesitantly into the apparently empty room. Seeing no one he simply stood quietly and waited for attention as he had been forced to do so many times in the past. Several cycles passed. He tried to stay focused but his processor kept slipping back to the Autobot base. If he had come in like this Ratchet would have been on him in an instant, snarling over what an idiot he was for allowing himself to be injured that way as he dragged the white mech under the searingly bright lights the humans preferred. June would had walked up and smiled reassuringly; laying those wonderfully warm hands on his mesh. Those soft memories only seemed to highlight the neglect of this cold dark mockery of a place of healing.

Finally there was a clatter from another room and a sleek maroon mech stepped out holding a polishing cloth. His lower half gleamed from a fresh application of solvent and his custom paint job demanded attention. When the medic caught sight of the battered, leaking, filthy mech standing in the center of his lab the revulsion radiated off him in waves. Driver fought to keep a satisfied grin off his faceplates as his plan began to solidify.

O

O

*He was here,* Bumblebee informed Optimus as the scout trotted up to him. *From the tracks, he observed from those rocks for a while then simply walked right over and picked something heavy up. He was confronted here by the largest of the miners and a few others,* he pointed to a spot where his ped prints were deep and clear, *and then his prints get too confused with the others as they enter the groundbridge.*

"At least it looks like they were surprised to see him," Arcee muttered.

"Indeed," Optimus agreed, "lending credence to your theory that this is an impulsive rescue attempt rather than betrayal. But now I am afraid wall we can do is wait to see what his actions result in."

O

O

"Who, or what, are you," the medic asked disdainfully as he stepped daintily around the small droplets of energon the white mech was leaving on the floor. He didn't offer to exchange designations and neither did Driver. Such was the standard on a Decepticon ship.

"Miner class lead mech 7.3 reporting for full security scan as ordered by Lord Megatron," Driver responded dully.

Annoyance battled with revulsion for control of the Decepticon's faceplates, finally settling on a distinctly unattractive mixture of the two. He circled Driver eyeing the many lacerations that would need his careful attention, the frayed cables and crimped wires. Those repairs would take time. Time away from cleaning the annoying excretions that the little organic had somehow gotten all over him. The maroon mech pursed his lips together and glared at his patient. The security scan had to be done now, no question, but perhaps he could put off any medical treatment until he was finished with his grooming. Suddenly the strange mech staggered. His arms flew out to balance himself and one servo grabbed the medic's shoulder. Knockout let out a curse as he jerked away.

"Look what you've done!" he snarled in disgust. A semi-liquid mixture of energon, organic matter, Earth minerals, and what else he really didn't want to know, had detached from the miner's servos and was sliding down the intricate joints on his back. He could almost feel the little organic life forms this planet was crawling with invading his every crevice. With a grunt of annoyance the medic shoved the miner onto the vertical scan berth and quickly ran the required set of scans.

He was so caught up in trying to remove the slimy mess from his mesh that he didn't notice the access cable extend from the white mech's wrist and bypass the gleaming medical equipment. Neither did he notice the mech's silver optics dim suddenly.

*I am Trypticon.*

*As am I.*

It wasn't speech. This awareness, this being was so deep in slumber that speech would have been impossible. But even somnambulant the largest of the Decepticons was capable of rejecting anything foreign. Any other mech would have immediately alerted the slumbering titan to his presence merely by accessing the data port in the wall of the medbay, but as part of a multi-gestalt Driver had the rare ability to synchronize his subroutines and completely submit his ego to another. So when the presence that was the spark of the _Nemesis_ became aware of the miner it merely registered a subset of itself that had only recently awakened. For the vessel; eons old and scarred by too many battles to count, this was such a common occurrence that the alert it raised wasn't even passed to the bridge. When the swift and through attention of Soundwave passed over the medbay once more all he saw was Knockout swiftly completing the required scans. When the silent Decepticon passed on the communication began again. It was not quite speech and not even the transferring of data packets, but rather a passing of pure knowledge, something only a gestalt could accomplish.

*Inquiry?*

*Continue.*

*Prisoner:Human:Imature:Male:Recent acquisition:Location?*

A flow of information spilled into Driver from Tripticon's active subsystems. As soon as he had the data Driver disconnected the access cable and terminated his connection to the living ship.

"There! All done," Knockout said brightly as soon as the scan lights terminated. "Now you get down to the wash rack and clean all that," the mech paused as his lips curled in distain and his processor searched for a way to describe the mess, "indeterminate organic matter, off. Here, have some sealant to get those nasty, leaking lacerations closed up," the medic tossed Driver a cylinder of the sealant in question, "and come back for those repairs as soon as you can."

Without even bothering to analyze the results the maroon mech urged the miner off of the berth and out of the medbay. Driver deliberately miss-stepped; landing hard on an injured knee joint. A fine spray of the most viscous internal lubricant a mech could produce splattered up and down the medic's newly cleaned legs. The Decepticon let out an odd strangled sound and stared down at the mess in disbelief. By the time he had collected enough wits to properly chastise the guilty party the doors were sliding home behind the white mech.

Driver headed straight for the wash racks as instructed, dutifully responding to every challenge thrown at him by the crewmechs he passed. It would be easier to blend in with the gleaming mechs that patrolled the Nemesis once he was clean and his deliberate injuries were steadily approaching the point where they would become a problem. To his relief the bay was empty. He stepped into a stall and let the chemicals cleanse the foreign matter from his mesh. As the powerful spray ran stinging over his damaged mesh his processor drifted longingly back to the wash bay in the Autobot base and the human hands; so gentle, so eager to help. With a shake of his helm the mech focused on the moment. He had a mission.

Once he was clean he deftly applied the sealant over the worst of his injuries. If his assessment of the so called medic was accurate the vain mech would be busy for several more cycles prettying up that flashy hide of his. He would neither analyze the readings he had taken of the mech nor wonder why he had failed to return in that time. With his injuries tended to the miner walked to the door of the wash racks and paused.

Now came the danger. If the ever seeking optics of Soundwave discovered him not headed back to the medbay the alert Con would no doubt send a security detachment after him, ending any hope of rescuing Raf. But the miner had learned something from his connection with Trypticon. The Decepticon used the Nemesis's subroutines to monitor the corridors, only rarely visually confirming what the host of subsystems that made up the ship's limited awareness told him. Driver, when connected directly to the Trypticon consciousness, was far deeper in the processor of the ship than the individual Decepticon was ever allowed.

Without hesitating the miner submerged his own personality in the deep dark recesses of the giant Decepticon. He was a part of Trypticon, he was Trypticon; connected to the core personality that had not surfaced to full wakefulness since the great city former had transformed for the last time on Cybertron. No matter where he moved in the vessel no signal would go out to alert the ever watchful Soundwave. The only danger was if one of the other mechs challenged him now.

Driver fixed his optics on a point about a quarter klick ahead of him on the corridor and began to stride briskly forward. His shoulder guards were arched high and he let a slightly frantic look set in his faceplates. 'I'm busy on a very important errand assigned to me by a very dangerous commander,' his body language projected. This coupled with the fact that he was now clean caused most of the mechs he passed to only hurriedly glance away from the new mech. The clearly visible damage only served to lend more credence to the illusion.

Another benefit to linking with the ship's core was that he now had an instinctive understanding of the vessel's layout. He walked unerringly down klicks of identical corridors and turned repeatedly at unmarked junctions. As he approached his destination the passing mechs grew fewer. This was a place to be avoided. Driver walked calmly up a large black door clearly intended to intimidate anyone who saw it. This was where his plan got a little shaky. He sent a quick prayer up to Primus and strode purposely through.

O

O

The mech assigned to guard the brig was board. Not the crippling boredom that interfered with the work, and often life spans, of inexperienced mechs, but the low throbbing boredom of an old soldier stationed at a task he knows is beneath him and there is nothing he can do about it. The lone prisoner was some minuscule organic who had spent the entire shift so far huddled in the corner of the ridiculously oversized cell. The mech on duty before him had mentioned that the human had showed some defiance when Knockout had handed him over and the mech had hoped for some entertaining banter but so far the human had said nothing. So it was with more interest than alarm that the mech greeted the strange battered mech who strode into the brig.

"Halt! Designation and assignment?"

"Structure expert mech 5. Reporting as ordered to initiate analysis of brig superstructure," Driver replied calmly, pulling up the designation he had used when his unit had still been trusted enough to complete major repairs.

The guard mech glanced at the schedule and was only mildly surprised to see the inspection on the official schedule. It hadn't been there when he'd clocked in but a certain paranoid, faceless officer did things like that to keep the crew on their peds. The lanky purple mech shrugged and waved his servos halfheartedly down along the row of cells.

"Acknowledged," he said as he studied the battered white mech curiously. "Are you that new miner mech everyone's talking about? The one who lost his gestalt and doesn't even have a designation?"

Driver winced a bit but nodded as he proceeded to examine the bulkhead welds.

"That's strange."

Unsure if a response was required Driver simply continued working closer to the mech.

"Don't get me wrong, anyone can lose teammates, but why did you never choose a designation for yourself? One of the best things about being a Con! I chose Clever as soon as I joined!"

"There was no need for names within the gestalt," Driver replied flatly.

"But your gestalt is all dead now," the other pointed out carelessly, "are you just planning on not talking to the rest of us for the rest of your life?"

Driver remained silent as he came even with Cleaver. The white mech suddenly stiffened and began examining a spot low on the wall intently.

"What is it?" the guard asked.

"I don't know," Driver replied with a frown. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

He ran one servo over the section of wall and held it out to the curious mech. Cleaver leaned in close and heightened the resolution on his optic visor trying to see what had caught the repair mech's interest. Suddenly a spark arced from the proffered servo to the faceplates of the attentive guard. Without a sound the purple mech collapsed into Driver's arms. The miner gently lowered the mech to the floor and stood. He walked directly to a specific cell and deactivated the force field.

"Rafael?" he called out gently to the huddled form in the corner.

The bundle of arms and legs unfolded with a startled gasp. The boy stumbled to his feet and ran towards the mech with a choked cry. Driver crouched down and swept the little human into a hug. He ran a few quick scans and his sparked wrenched with pain. Rafael was injured and dehydrated.

"I'm sorry," the mech whispered. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault Driver," Raf said happily snuggling into his chestplates. "Everything is fine now."

Driver frowned at that and idly reclosed the plates that had slid open at Raf's touch. Everything was not all right. They were still stuck on a Decepticon ship and Driver had no idea how he was going to sneak the boy off without being seen. He reached down to stroke the human's back with one servo while his processor whirled over the possibilities. Raf responded by nuzzling Driver's chestplates. The mech's scout chamber registered the gesture and attempted to open again. Driver was about to close them for a second time but stiffened as a thought flickered through his processor.

His free hand fell to his side and the canister of sealant attached to his hip. Would it be enough? He checked the indicator and nodded to himself. Now the only question was could he stand the pain. He carefully brought Raf up to optic level and spoke softly.

"Rafael, I have a plan to get us out of here but I will need you to be unconscious for it to work. Do you trust me?"

The human nodded without question and the miner felt something twist in his spark at the gesture.

"Good," he continued. "Now I will just give you a small electrical jolt. It should put you out without any pain."

The mech held up a servo next to the boy. Raf took the time to lean in a place a quick kiss on Driver's cheek before grabbing the servo. The discharge made his hair spike out and then he slid silently down into Driver's hand. The mech made sure his vitals were strong then carefully placed the child on the floor. A specialized scan allowed him to determine the child's exact volume and how it could be arranged.

He moved a few paces away and opened his scout chamber all the way. It was sectioned to hold four specifically transformed scout class miners. There was enough space to hold the human but it was far too segmented. The miner; having made his decision, acted without hesitation. He turned off or dulled as many pain receptors as he dared in the sensitive chamber, rerouted energon lines, and transformed his arm into a secondary drill. Using his other hand to manually hold the plates open the mech drove the spinning drill into his scout chamber.

The pain was incredible even with his sensors dulled. A wave of blackness threatened to overwhelm the mech but he fought it back. He had survived worse at the servos of Airachnid. Driver twisted the drill around until he felt the last of the support struts sever. Forming his hand again he ripped out the now useless framework. A small cry of pain escaped him. Without pausing he dropped the mangled metal and transformed the limb into a solid sphere. The surface of the sphere shifted and flattened until he could fit it into the chamber opening. Once in he shifted the limb into an oblong shape and ran his torso through a series of quick transformations. Wave after wave of pain washed over him as the damaged gears clamped again and again on the odd shape. When he was finally satisfied the chamber was the right shape the mech removed his hand and grabbed the canister of sealant. The spray burned in his lacerated chamber.

Once it had dried the mech strode over to where the child lay. Tenderly he scooped up the boy in his hands and rested his lips on top of Raf's head. With the utmost care Driver slid the unresisting form into his chamber. He arranged the boy into a fetal position and carefully closed the plates around him. Bracing himself the mech reactivated the sensory nodes in the chamber. Through the wave of pain he could feel the comforting warmth radiating out from the boy. The chamber was still a bit too rough, he could feel protrusions poking into the human's skin, but it would have to do for now.

He walked out of the brig, casting a last remorseful look at the still form of Cleaver. The mech would be severely punished when he came to but there was nothing Driver could do about that. Keeping up a steady unhurried pace the white mech headed for the escape pods. He was still a level above them when two forms came strolling around the corner chatting lightly. Driver felt his spark lurch. One was a blue mech easily as powerful as Bulkhead and sporting an eye patch. He walked along chatting with a femme. Driver forced himself to keep walking as they approached. His optics rose almost of their own accord and locked with the femme's.

O

O

Airachnid had panicked when she'd seen the white mech appear out of the shadows. Somehow she had gotten back to the Nemesis, she didn't remember how. She had crouched shivering in her quarters until it was time for her shift. Then she had forced all her fear and confusion to the back of her processor. The first rule of survival on a Decepticon ship; show no weakness. Besides, the apparition had never appeared when she was with others. But Arcee had been there, a soft voice whispered in her audio receptor. The femme ignored it.

She had passed Breakdown on the way to the bridge and eagerly accepted his offer to walk together. Airachnid was feeling better now that the buzz of the Nemesis surrounded her and began to play with the big mech. It was quite obvious he was taken with her and she did occasionally enjoy being the one chased, leading the prey back to her web. They were about halfway to the bridge when he appeared, coming down the corridor towards her.

_Show no weakness._

She paused for a nano-cycle as their optics met.

_Show no fear._

Breakdown glanced at her curiously and she forced her attention away from the apparition, locked optics with the burly mech, and smiled. She reached out a hand to reassure herself that he was real and made some half suggestive, half scathing remark to explain the gesture. The mech grinned in response and the kept on down the corridor. They were laughing over something she hadn't caught when the mech made a comment that made her stop dead.

"What did you say?" she hissed, optics widening in shock.

"I said I wondered how a non-combat mech got that many scars," Breakdown replied in confusion.

"Who?"

"That white miner mech we passed a few levels back."

"You saw him?" she demanded.

"Of course I did," the blue warrior grunted in offense, "I may only have one optic but it works just fine. Airachnid?" Breakdown watched in confusion as the ebony femme suddenly reversed direction and raced back down the corridor. The mech shook his helm and muttered, "A little odd maybe, but definitely intriguing."


	19. Rescue

Driver 19

Escape

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Airachnid scrambled down the corridor as fast as her legs could carry her. Despite her urgency for speed, some lingering scrap of caution prevented her from breaking the ban on using alt modes in the ship. She didn't want to attract unnecessary attention. A voice whispered in the back of her processor, telling her she should report this to Megatron, but what did she really have to report? A ghost from her past had reappeared and was haunting the _Nemesis_?

The spider-bot's processor was whirling, putting the bits and pieces together. He was trying to escape. Something in his stance, that frantic desperation in his optics that he tried so hard to hide from her, the femme was sure of it. He must have come aboard willingly; otherwise Breakdown wouldn't have reacted so calmly to him. Then why the escape? He had been with the Autobots. As obvious as it was the realization shocked her so badly she staggered to a halt for a few precious nano-cycles. He had been with the Autobots; the enemy. He had betrayed them, betrayed her. Rage filled her processor at the same time she realized his intentions; the human captive. With a snarl the femme resumed her course.

She rounded a corner and stopped dead. The white mech was bent over the access panel for an escape pod rapidly typing away. Something clenched and swelled in her spark at the same time. The sensation choked her, erasing every other thought from her processor. He was alive. He was real. Suddenly the miner seemed to sense her presence and raised his helm to look at her. His silver optics found hers and for a moment something filled her that was neither rage nor fear, hunt lust or hunger; but spark deep longing. Then without a word he dove into the open hatch and was gone. A small sound; something between a whimper and a moan escaped the spider-bot's vocalizer as she slumped against the bulkhead.

O

O

As soon as he was out of sight of the femme panic gripped Drivers spark. He transformed into his truck mode and roared down the corridor. Over the bond the aware bits of Trypticon inquired as to the source of his distress. Driver replied with an implication of a task that needed to be completed immediately but gave it the lowest priority he could manage. Directly lying over such a bond was impossible and his emotional distress was causing the ship to focus far too much attention on him. He sent a vague report on his physical condition and then severed the active portion of the link, keeping only enough to remain aware of any alerts. By the time the ship sent a repair request to the bridge he would be long gone.

He skidded to a stop beside the first escape pod hatch he came to and transformed. Driver's servos flew over the controls but before he could complete the startup procedure something indefinable drew his attention away from the screen. He glanced up and saw her standing there. A wave of confusing conflicting emotion rose and paralyzed him. He wanted to go to her; how badly he wanted to go to her. Suddenly he felt the flickering awareness that was Soundwave settle on him and the spell was broken.

_Raf_.

Driver felt the warmth radiating out from the unconscious human; filling him, healing him. He leapt into the now open hatch and triggered the release. The clamps holding the pod released and it popped away from the ship with a hiss of gas. There was no going back now, no hoping for other options. As soon as they were clear of the Nemesis's interference field Driver sent a compressed signal to the Autobots giving half a dozen possible meeting coordinates. June would know which the real one was. At least he prayed she would. The mech silently thanked Primus the _Nemesis_ was close enough for the signal to reach them. Painful buzzing in his processor cut off the transmission on the third repetition.

He had been discovered then. Driver gently touched the sensor over his scout chamber; an old gesture to reassure himself the little ones were safe. Not that he needed it with Raf. It was as if the human radiated his presence to the world around him. June did too he noted absently, remembering the way her hands felt. Maybe it was just something humans did. His thoughts were interrupted when the pod screamed out the impact warning. Driver focused all his attention on bracing himself to give Rafael the greatest protection.

With a strut jarring crack the pod landed in the soft soil the comprised the uninhabited land Driver had aimed it for. The damaged sensors in his scout chamber registered a viscous trickle of iron rich liquid. In a near panic the miner focused on his charge. The remaining jagged edges he had been unable to smooth out had dug into the human's skin and Raf was leaking. A closer inspection revealed that the damage was superficial. Raf was in no immediate danger and there were no doubt seekers approaching. The mech took a nano cycle to flex and reassure himself that he wasn't too damaged to complete the rest of his escape and then leapt out of the pod and rolled to the side. Plasma shots tore divots out of the ground where he had landed moments before.

"Stand down and surrender miner!" a monotone voice ordered.

Driver rolled to his peds and glared around. He was surrounded. At least a dozen seekers stood with weapons trained on him. He could see two more dark forms approaching. A smile flickered at the corners of his lips for a moment. In an instant his lower half had transformed into a conical drill. The seekers began firing at him, purple plasma blasts searing at his armor, but his upper half had transformed into an armored hemisphere. The plating that was designed to slip through the energon veins of Cybertron easily shrugged off the superheated gases. Within nano-cycles he had slipped down into the granite, the armored hemisphere transforming into a long, tapered segmented tail that disappeared with a flick as Megatron landed.

The Decepticon warlord stood in terrifying silence glaring at the disturbance in the earth. Purple seekers shifted nervously. He was obviously waiting for something. The steady thumping of a helicopter filled the as Airachnid arrived behind him in her alt mode. The black and gold femme silently approached her leader.

"I assume you have an explanation for this Airachnid," Megatron growled dangerously.

"Of course my lord," she replied smoothly. The flight down had given the spider-bot time to compose herself. "That mech has always been a soft sparked fool. No doubt he blundered into the Autobots when he came out of stasis and a certain Prime was able to woo him to their cause."

"From the sound of things you know this 'soft sparked fool' quite, intimately," the warlord suggested without looking at her.

Something tightened within the femme. Yes she had known him very intimately.

"To be certain," she said without pause, _show no weakness_, "I was assigned as the gestalt's overseer by Commander Dreadlock himself. I am, as you say, intimately aware of his motivations. His loyalty was always dependant on us holding one of his unit. With the rest of his unit gone we have no control over him. It would have been useful if I had been informed of his presence the moment he arrived."

Megatron shifted his blood red optics to trace her faceplates. As usual there was nothing he could read in the dangerous femme's expression. He nodded.

"A pity you were not sharp enough to catch that memo," he replied. "Now would it serve any purpose for you to peruse him at this point?"

"If you so command it my lord. I will drill after him immediately and chase him to the very end of this pitiful little planet. However I am a flyer who was retrofitted for drilling, he is quite simply a drill. There will be no contest in a chase."

"Soundwave intercepted a transmission," Megatron stated, "six set of coordinates. Perhaps you can tell me which on is the most likely place for him to meet the Autobots."

Airachnid felt the data ping against her CPU and her faceplates furrowed.

"This is a strategy he used frequently," she explained. "He would send out a list of rendezvous options and the only way to determine which one was real was a prearranged understanding. With me he used clusters of five, seven, or three."

"So in short you cannot supply me with any useful information," the Decepticon leader cut her off and turned briskly away. "Soundwave assign seeker units to each of the coordinates."

O

O

Contrast; searing, grinding pain, warm comforting pleasure. Driver burrowed through the rock like an earthworm of steel. Within him he could feel the glowing life force of his last remaining reason to keep online. The steady double time tempo of the human's heartbeat fueled his own tired spark driving him on through the pain. Gears that should have been completely internalized dragged painfully against the rock. Armor plating warped and cracked under the pressure.

Despite his brutal self-reformatting of his scout chamber the miner could not protect both Raf and himself. The four scout class miners that fit in the chamber would have been able to transform with him no matter what form he took. But for the human to survive the chamber he had hollowed out for Raf must stay the same shape and size. This meant the discrepancies in the transformation cascaded out across his entire frame, a gear a nanometer out of synch here, a plate that didn't quite fit there.

They were small things but they added up as he ploughed through the crystallized minerals. Internal gears over heated as they struggled to maintain his form against the constantly changing pressures. Driver redirected the majority of his coolants to protect the precious contents of his scout chamber, accelerating the cascade reaction in his peripheral systems. Energon began to stain the rock around him; small amounts from a thousand tiny abrasions. It would be a race he realized; not against the Decepticons but his own failing systems. The miner surged on.

O

O

"Optimus!" Ratchet roared out excitedly. "I just received a broadcast from Driver!"

The attention of the entire base was suddenly focused on the red and white mech as they gathered around him.

"What does he say old friend?" Optimus asked.

"This makes no sense," the medic frowned as his excitement deflated. "It is six sets of coordinates. There is nothing to differentiate them and now the signal has cut off."

The Autobot medic pulled up a map of North America on the main screen. Six silver dots appeared to be scattered around the Pacific Northwest.

"There!" June suddenly called out eagerly, pointing towards the point farthest north. "Mount Rainier National Park!"

"How can you be sure?" Ratchet demanded.

"Whenever Driver took me shopping he worked out a backup plan," the nurse explained, "in case we were ever separated during a Decepticon attack. I was supposed to move towards the highest point in elevation furthest northwest."

"Autobots! Roll out!" Optimus ordered.

O

O

Three things composed his entire universe; the pressure and pain that surrounded him, the precious life he carried within, and a single point that he was swimming through the pain towards. With a final lunge he was free of the pressure though the pain remained. Dimly he was aware of forms moving around him. He tried to release the life. Raf would be safe with them. But whispering subroutines informed him that his chamber refused to open. He knew he should bring his servos up to manually open the plates but for some reason they refused to move. He had to tell them. They needed to understand.

O

O

The Autobots stood in a clearing in a deep forest. Around them were scattered various pieces of scrap metal. The coordinates appeared to be some sort of dumping ground for non toxic pieces of large recyclable trash, carefully hidden away where the visitors to the park wouldn't be offended by their presence. The secluded clearing made a perfect meeting place Optimus mused and he watched his soldiers pace nervously back and forth. Bulkhead's optics flicked back and forth as he eagerly scanned for any sign that the Cons were going to offer up a fight. Arcee's wings twitched in response to the guilt that rolled just beneath the surface of her faceplates. Bumblebee's doorwings were held high and tight in an eager 'V' of anticipation while his optics scanned the ground for any sign of Driver's emergence.

"If he's coming through the ground does that mean he wasn't able to rescue Raf?" Bulkhead suddenly demanded.

*Even if it does I bet it also means he has intelligence for us,* the yellow scout interjected quickly defending his friend, but Optimus could see the disappointment in him.

"He is coming," the Prime said suddenly.

The other three froze. Through the ground they could feel a faint vibration growing stronger.

*Optimus! There are five Decepticon signals approaching fast from the northeast!* Ratchet called out over the comm.

"Bulkhead! Prepare to engage aerial forces! Bumblebee and Arcee give Driver any assistance he requires."

The massive green mech moved to stand at the other side of the clearing from the Prime with his plasma cannons humming to life. The two smaller Autobots kept scanning the ground. Soon their attention was rewarded. A section of the cluttered ground began to heave and twist. Suddenly a long form burst out of the ground. For a nano-cycle the eel like form lay twitching on the forest floor, with a spasm and a shudder it began to transform. Both the scout and the second in command would later be grateful that the Decepticons chose that moment to attack. The plasma blasts and explosions managed to drown out the worst of the grinding and shrieking of stressed metal as the miner transformed. Still the noise was horrifying. In all her eons of war Arcee had never seen any mech so damaged be able to force a transformation.

"Raafff," Driver gasped out as soon as the transformation had stopped.

"It's okay," Arcee assured him, "we'll go back for him later. Right now we need to get you back to the base."

"No, Raf, within," the miner gasped out as he gestured with a mangled hand at his abdomen. "Open, chamber."

*Don't be crazy," Bee whistled as he frantically tried to stem the many energon leaks. *Forcing your scout chamber open could hurt you even worse, we need to.*

With a groan of pain the white mech realized he would never get them to understand soon enough amid the roar of the, now three, seekers flying overhead. Summoning the last of his strength he rolled onto his side and wedged his remaining servos into the plates of his scout chamber. He was aware of Arcee shouting something as he ripped the plates open, and then there was emptiness where there had been warmth as he felt yet more energon drain out of him. The sounds of battle faded and he was vaguely aware that powerful arms were tenderly lifting him up. For the first time in so very long the mech drifted into stasis lock with the feeling that someone was taking care of him.


	20. Heal

Driver 20

Heal

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Mrs. Esquivel was folding laundry. In a house with so many people that was nothing strange. She paused at a small pair and jeans and a happy smile crossed her face. Both knees were worn and one had sprouted a small tear. She reached out a work worn finger to stroke the grey stains that surrounded the damage. She had been worried about Rafael for some time. He was so quiet, so self sufficient. Like many mothers she was afraid that she was not giving him enough of her time as a result of spending it with his noisier more disruptive siblings. His tendency to shut himself into books and that computer of his had especially concerned her. So despite this newest strain on the family budget and her time, Mrs. Esquivel was more than pleased to find these little proofs that her son was leading an active healthy life. She made a mental note to bake something nice to send to the Darby household in thanks for all Jack and June had done for her son.

The phone rang and pulled her out of her musings. After digging through a few piles of laundry, making mental note to chew out the first offspring she saw for not returning it to the cradle, she found the grey cordless.

"Hello, Esquivel household, June! Good to hear from you." The warm smile faded from the mothers face as she listened to the woman on the other end of the line, to be replaced by a look of frightened determination.

"You are taking him to the hospital?" she demanded. "Okay, I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Pilar! You have the house!"

"What's up Mama?" the young woman asked nervously.

"There was an accident while Raf and his club were caving," the woman repeated what she had been told. "Raf is in no danger but he was injured and June is taking him to the hospital."

The dark haired girl let out a gasp and wrapped her mother in a quick hug. Once she was released the woman rushed out of the house, laundry completely forgotten. When she arrived at the hospital she ran directly into the emergency room. A tall redheaded nurse met her and waved her past the inner doors.

"Sandy?" Mrs. Esquivel asked nervously.

"June is with him," the ward nurse reassured her, "and he's fine. We'll be sending him home in a few hours at the most."

Relief poured out of the woman as she walked into the hospital room. Sitting up on one of the tan hospital beds Raf was backing away from a needle June Darby was approaching him with.

"But they might not get infected at all," the boy was protesting.

"Rafael Esquivel!" No instructions, no admonitions just his name spoken in _that_ tone of voice. Raf jumped a bit and immediately held his arm out for the antibiotics the nurse was attempting to give him.

"Mama!" He called out happily.

Mrs. Esquivel smiled and wrapped the boy in a gentle embrace, careful not to disturb the stitches and bruises that covered his body.

"Now," she stepped back to examine him at arms' length. "What happened?"

The child tried to speak, but his voice betrayed him. He managed to croak out something and dissolved into sobs.

"Driver, he, I, he."

"Shh, my tesoro, shh, everything will be fine," Mrs. Esquivel's eyes sought out those of Mrs. Darby.

"Mr. Driver was badly injured protecting Raf and the others in the cave," June explained simply.

The other mother nodded in understanding and went back to comforting her son. As soon as the boy could speak he pulled away and turned to the nurse.

"Mrs. Darby? You can go now," he said as firmly as he could.

"Raf!" his mother gasped in shock.

"No, I mean I'm fine," the boy stuttered, "but I know Driver won't feel right unless you are there and Doc Ratchet will need your help."

Mrs. Esquivel could see that what Raf was saying was resonating with the nurse but the other woman hesitated to leave the boy.

"Go June," the woman urged, "Raf will be released soon anyway."

"Thank you," the nurse said gratefully.

The two watched her hurry out of the room and then the mother turned to her son.

"Now my tesoro," she murmured, "tell me what causes that pain I see so deep in your heart."

For a moment the boy hesitated, and then he burst out sobbing.

"It's all my fault," he wailed.

O

O

"Nurse Darby, hand me the line welder and then get to work on sealing the energon leaks under his quaternary transformation plates." Ratchet's order was brisk and unemotional as the woman walked into the medbay.

The nurse nodded and obeyed the curt order. With a life on the line there was no time for pleasantries. Without hesitation she began shifting through the mess that used to be a joint on the mech. Her training kicked in and rescued her from contemplating the scope of the damage. Her job was to find the next item and repair it. Soon she and Ratchet were working in perfect tandem. He would occasionally flick a servo in the direction of a repair his scanners indicated as a priority but for the most part he let June choose her own pace.

Time slipped by in a blur of abraded energon lines and fractured armor plating. Jack arrived after his shift was over and assisted as well. The young man fetched and carried for the two healers and occasionally assisted where another pair of hands was needed, but mostly he stood by the mech's head gently stroking the rounded helm and singing softly with a far off look in his eyes.

Arcee watched from the sidelines desperately wishing she could help. After a few disastrous attempts on her part Ratchet had banned the warrior from participating in non-emergency repairs. It didn't help that a ball of guilt had settled somewhere in her midsection and was twisting around.

*How is he?* Bumblebee's worried chirp came from behind her.

"No word yet," she replied softly, "but his spark is still pulsing."

*How?* bumblebee whistled softly.

The blue cycle-bot had to agree. The previously white mech was nearly unidentifiable as a Cybertronian. So much of his hide had been scoured. The femme paused in her train of thought and suddenly ran her optics intently over the miner's frame.

"It's gone," she whispered softly.

*What?*

"His Decepticon faction symbol."

O

O

Raf sat in the big living room chair; the special one that was usually reserved for his father or Grandmother, or in this case for the sick or injured. The worn woolen cover was comfortable as was the fleece blanket that his oldest brother had wrapped him in. A bowl of beef broth ala Pilar sat half emptied on a table beside him. A stack of comics books loaned by another sister tilted precariously next to the video game controller. He really, truly didn't mind that his family cared enough to take care of him when he wasn't feeling well, but the all the attention was more than a little stifling. Raf felt like he would explode if one more sibling popped up and asked if he was feeling okay.

Then there was that odd feeling that had been nagging him since he had woken up in the hospital, a strange flickering phantom pain. Like the dentist working on his teeth through the pain killer but over his entire body. He shifted uncomfortably as the odd dull pain dug into his leg.

The Bluetooth hidden under his cap whistled distractingly and a smile spread across the boy's face.

"Hey Bee," he asked eagerly. "How's Mr. Driver?"

*Good news!* his friend chirped. *Ratchet says the worst of the danger is past and as long as no new complications pop up he should be fine.*

A happy cry escaped Raf as he slumped back into his chair. Immediately two pairs of brown eyes were locked on him like seeker cannons. He grinned at his siblings who had apparently materialized out of thin air and indicated the headset.

"Mr. Driver is out of the ICU," he stated for their benefit, "and his condition has been upgraded."

A chorus of heartfelt congratulations came from the rapidly growing crowd of Esquivels before the clan matriarch shooed them off.

"Thanks Abuelita," Raf whispered as the grey haired woman smiled down at him then chased the remaining children from the room. He was about to continue his conversation with Bee when the call waiting tone sounded.

*It's Pedro!* Bee chirped excitedly after quickly checking the incoming signal. *He's probably calling to check on you. Talk to you later.*

"By Bee," Raf called out as he switched lines. "Pedro?"

"Hey little cuz! How you doing Raf?"

"Oh I'm fine. No broken bones but I got thirty-seven stitches!"

"Really? Sweet! My best record was only twenty-eight."

"Yeah, I was lucky Mr. Driver was there to protect me," Raf's voice threatened to crack.

"How is he?"

"He's doing better, he just got out of ICU."

The conversation drifted along predictable lines. Until Raf noticed something odd in his cousin's voice.

"Pedro?" Raf asked softly. "Is everything at the mine okay?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment. Then the young man let out a deep sigh.

"Raf? Remember that promise we made to each other?"

"That we would always speak the truth and always believe each other no matter how crazy it sounded."

"That one. Look, don't mention anything to Mama okay? But something is wrong at the mine."

"What?"

"That's just it. The owner is practically a saint. We have every safety required by law and more. The Big Rock is the cleanest, safest, best paying mine to work at. We have the best equipment in the business…"

"But," Raf prompted.

"I shouldn't be burdening you with this Raf," Pedro sighed.

"No! Go on!" Raf urged his cousin. That was the best part of their relationship. Pedro was the only one who didn't treat him like the baby of the family, who trusted him with his problems.

"It's really no one thing. There's just been a lot of accidents recently. Freak stuff that no one could have predicted. This one air shaft clogged with dirt the same day they were repairing the primary back up and the same day something crawled into the secondary backup and died, we still haven't found out what. Stuff like that. Also the old miners are getting jittery. They are starting to talk about Tommy knockers and gremlins, and these are the solid old rocks we count on to keep the young miners calm."

"Wow," Raf replied sympathetically. "That's got to be tough on a shift foreman like you."

"Yeah, the only thing that seems to help is having the chaplain give a short mass at the beginning of each shift. Well Selena is reminding me you need your sleep. Love you cuz."

"Love you too," Raf smiled as Pedro hung up. It was nice to be a trusted confidant.

*So how's Pedro?* Bee asked politely as soon as the connection was free.

"Stressed about his job."

*Your cousin has a lot of responsibility. Oh I have more news on Driver.*

"What!" Raf asked eagerly.

*His processor signals have stabilized and his internal repairs have kicked into overdrive! Doc bot says he can't believe it. He's never seen anybot rebound from injuries like this.*

"He does have the best medical team on the planet."

*Yeah but Ratchet thinks it's something else.*

"What?"

*He says Driver's found a reason to live again.*

O

O

Warmth against the cold. Not the warmth on his gestalt, but similar. The awareness slipped in and out but always there was the warmth to welcome him. First there was a pure blue light; so intense it seemed to burn away at him. It was painful but when it had passed it left a tingling glow of healing. Soon the awareness began to anticipate and seek the searing light. As more of it was burned away and healed the less painful the light became and the brighter it burned. The awareness noticed lesser lights, one rivaled the first in power but the rest were much weaker. However they all provided some measure of protection against the cold that surrounded him.

'_I am cold_.' With the thought came self awareness. He tried to swim up towards the warmth but the cold and pain held him back.

Another source of warmth came. It wasn't as powerful as the burning blue light, but it felt somehow closer. The warm orange light seemed to flow gently into him where the blue light seated through him. He redoubled his efforts to leave the cold and dark and reach the lights.

O

O

Ratchet was cleaning off a counter in the medbay when a slight sound caught his attention. He glanced over at the berth. Two silver optics were fixed intently on a small form curled up sleeping on the battered white chestplates. A small smile pulled at the corners of the medic's mouth as he took in the scene. For just a moment all the pain, all the guilt and stress had been wiped from the miner's faceplates as he stared down at the sleeping boy. The tenderness and love that seemed to radiate out from the white mech would have melted a spark of steel.

How was it, Ratchet wondered, that this gentle spark had remained so undefiled after eons of living under Decepticon rule? A secondary gear on the red and white Autobot's leg shifted as it reacted to a slight change in temperature and the slight noise drew the attention of the miner. His silver optics flicked up, wariness replacing tenderness and a battered hand came up to protectively cover the precious burden on his chest.

"Ratchet," he acknowledged quietly when he recognized the Autobot.

"Driver."

"How is he?"

"He's fine. The few lacerations and bruises that he suffered are already healed for the most part and he wasn't in Decepticon hands for long enough to be mentally damaged, thank Primus."

A slow warm smile spread out over the battered white mech's faceplates and he relaxed into the berth.

"Are you interested at all in how you are?" the medic queried with a smirk.

"Not really," Driver replied absently as he gently began to stroke Raf's back with one servo.

Ratchet arched an optic ridge at that but the mech continued before he could respond.

"I trust that you and June are doing your best to repair me and that if I was really damaged you would be obviously soaking in guilt by now."

A short bark of laughter escaped the medic's lips and Driver glanced up in confusion. Ratchet just shook his helm.

"Driver?" a soft voice asked.

"Rafael," the pure joy in the tone was enough to quiet even the caustic medic and he walked out of the medbay to give them some privacy.

"How are you?" Driver inquired as he continued to run the tip of his servo over the human's back.

"I feel fine," Raf replied, leaning happily into the caress. "How are you?"

The boy tried to keep his voice light but Driver could sense the worry beneath it.

"I still have a lot of damage," the mech admitted honestly, "but Ratchet and June are both working hard to get me healed."

Raf seemed to hesitate for a moment and looked down at his untied sneakers. Driver waited patiently for him to ask what was obviously on his mind.

"Do, do you want to be healed?" the question came out as a barely heard whisper, the boy unable to look the mech in the optics.

The surface Raf was on began to shift as Driver heaved himself up into a sitting position. Two hands came around and cradled the boy gently to his chest plates.

"Yes," he whispered into the boy's hair, answering the question that was meant instead of the one asked. "I want to live."


	21. Beloved

Driver 21

Beloved

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"I just don't understand it," Ratchet muttered shaking his helm.

"Perhaps it would be best to not question such a blessing too deeply," Optimus replied softly as he watched the battered white mech interacting with the children.

The medic glanced in shock at his commander but the Autobot leader was focused on the scene before him.

Driver sat on the silo floor facing Bumblebee, the two helms bent over watching the children put the finishing touches on a chalk mural that now covered at least half the concrete. It had been Jack's idea, something to keep Miko busy and Raf occupied while the miner recovered. Though the human had repeatedly assured the Autobots that they didn't mind if the chalk was smeared the Cybertronians were going out of their way to avoid defacing the colorful work of art. . Ratchet had appreciated the diversion for Driver's sake as well. The hard working mech was being driven batty by the forced inaction imposed by his injuries. It was not however the project that confounded the medic.

"Optimus, don't get me wrong. I am grateful," insisted Ratchet. "But the rate at which Driver is healing is simply inexplicable. If he were consuming tremendous amounts of energon that would be one thing, but he takes even less than a healthy mech should yet still shows results."

"It is a mystery my friend," the Autobot leader admitted with a smile on his face and let his optics linger a moment on Jack. "Speaking of energon;" the red and blue mech tapped the computer consol with one servo.

"Oh joy," the medic muttered; his attention successfully diverted, "more reports."

"Driver!" Arcee called out as she rolled into base. Sadie flickered out of existence and the cycle-bot transformed. "How are you feeling?"

"Reasonably well," the miner replied, tilting his head curiously. "My vital stats are available on the medical computer if you interested."

"That's," Arcee hesitated, "thank you, I'll take your word for it."

Now that she was actually interacting with the white mech on a regular basis she was running into the odder aspects of the miner's personality. Having had little contact outside of his gestalt where all sensations were shared, Driver had never developed the ability to easily express feelings; emotional or physical except through physical contact.

"Are you feeling up to transforming?"

"I believe I am able," the mech glanced at Ratchet for confirmation.

"You will be fine for a base transformation into your primary alt mode," the medic said without looking up. "Just don't try anything fancy."

"Why do you ask?" Jack inquired of his partner.

"Remember Old Mrs. Macreery?"

"Our neighbor that always yells at us for going too fast no matter what speed we're traveling at?"

"That's her. Well your mother volunteered to help her take some junk to the dump."

Jack smiled and stood up brushing the chalk dust from his hands.

"And that means she volunteered me," he said with a resigned sigh and shake of his head.

"Even better!" Arcee grinned cheerfully as she knelt to examine the children's work. "She volunteered you and Driver."

"I'd be glad to help any way I could," the white mech offered immediately.

"Hey! A way for you to escape Doc Hatchet," Miko added her two cents to the conversation. "No more listening to his nagging."

"I heard that," the medic growled.

The slim Asian merely stuck out her tongue in the red and white Autobot's general direction. He had spent some time berating the miner for the rashness of his rescue attempt. Miko had offered her condolences, and a suggestion for revenge, to Driver once the tirade had petered out but the white mech had refused both.

"It is just how he shows that he cares," the miner had explained to the confused child.

As they prepared to roll out, only Jack caught the tight look that flickered across his partner's face. He brushed a shoulder against her knee as he passed. They had talked about this. The Autobot was struggling still to overcome her jealously, but she had now recognized it for what it was and was fighting. The human felt her servos brush softly through his hair before she waved him into Driver's cab. The faux diesel engine growled to life and they rolled out of the base.

O

O

"Are you sure this is the last load Mrs. Macreery?" Jack asked about six hours later. "No more hidden stashes?"

The Nevada sun had set and the last traces of orange were fading from the desert sky. They had made no less than eight trips back and forth between the recycling center and the low ranch house that the elderly woman lived in. She assured them, for the fourth time, that this really was the last and they started for the dump one last time. Jack had just tossed the last bundle of magazines into the bin when he sensed Driver stiffen.

"What is it?" the human asked softly laying a hand on the battered white metal.

"A low level scan just crossed us," the white truck said.

"Decepticon?"

"I don't know. Could have been human," Driver replied uncertainly.

Jack's blue eyes narrowed. It was highly unlikely that anyone would bother scanning a dump outside of Jasper, Nevada; but it could be. He glanced nervously around at the deep shadows thrown by the halogen lights. Driver rolled away from him and transformed. The white mech let his blue optics scan the immediate area. He glanced at Jack and shook his helm.

"So how about we just clear out?" the human suggested.

"Maybe you're…"

Driver trailed off as the sound of an engine approached. He crouched between Jack and the oncoming vehicle until a familiar shape rounded one of the trash piles.

"Arcee!" Jack called out in relief as she rolled into the light.

"And company," she said in amusement as the figure on her back dismounted gracefully. "What's got you so worked up?"

"I detected an unidentified scan signal abit ago," the mine informed her. There was still a hint of worry in his voice. "Was that you?"

"No," the Autobot said shortly as she transformed. "But this planet is crawling with electronic devices that are constantly searching for signals. Most likely there's just an old iPhone someone accidently dropped in their recycling out in this trash," she indicated the surrounding piles, but despite hr assurances Jack noted she had a plasma rifle out and ready. The two mechs split up by silent agreement and began to circle the trash piles. The two humans moved closer together and Jack quickly herded the other into the shadows, picking up a handy lead pipe as he did.

"Nice leathers Mom," he said with a hint of surprise in his voice as he glanced over the gleaming black outfit with blue trim she wore.

"Thanks," she whispered back with a smile. "Arcee got them for me."

"Really?" Jack asked in surprise. Not that the cycle-bot wasn't generous; but there was something in his mother's eyes that hinted at a secret, and that rarely meant anything good for him.

"So Jack," the woman murmured letting her eyes run over the improvised weapon in his hand, "just out of curiosity, at what point did hiding in a junk yard while two aliens run recon become a perfectly normal evening out for us?"

Jack let out a laugh that sounded unnaturally loud in the darkness.

"I think it was when you agreed that I could start looking for a motorcycle."

"Oh, so this is my fault?"

"Yep, hold on." Jack raised a finger to his Bluetooth and his eyes lost focus. "Okay Arcee, I'll meet you there." He smiled up at his Mom. "They couldn't find the source of the signal but it looks like an all clear. They are headed back to the gate. If you want to run ahead and meet them I'll be right there."

"Ah, did my son the scrounger fine another treasure?" June asked as they walked out into the open and Jack dropped the lead pipe.

"It's called being frugal Mother," the young man shot back lightly, "and I seem to recall that I learned it from a wise old woman."

"Who are you calling old?" she demanded.

Jack wisely decided to retreat. June smiled fondly at him and continued on towards the gate. The two Cybertronians were chatting as she walked up and the woman handed her helmet to Arcee without comment. She was peeling off the leather jacket when the cycle-bot glanced up in concern,

"What's taking Jack so long?" she asked.

"He stopped to grab something out of a pile," June informed her.

The Autobot chuckled softly to herself. She had hauled home more than a few of Jack's finds. Millennia of running across the galaxy with constantly dwindling resources had taught her the value of being adaptable in acquisitions. The inventible confrontations with June over keeping the garage clear for her car were mild enough to count as entertainment.

"He's been too long," Driver suddenly opinioned. "I'll go get him."

The two females smiled at each other as he walked away from them.

"I thought being overprotective was your shtick," June whispered.

"Oh, Driver has me beat hands down," the cycle-bot replied with a shrug, "at least in that," her voice cut off suddenly as the miner rounded the corner and his frame stiffened as if struck.

*What is it Driver?* she commed, but the mech made no move to respond.

O

O

The strange feeling of being watched that had been prickling at the base of his helm for the past several clicks suddenly intensified as the mech stood with the nurse and the commander. He said something about checking on Jack and began to circle; trying to determine the source of his discomfort. It wasn't a lie at all. If there was something bad out there he wanted the human close. The miner stepped around the pile separating him from the young man and felt his spark seize up.

She stood there grasping Jack in her servos, snarling out a question at the human. She wanted to know his whereabouts. Despite the terror that clawed at his spark the white mech stepped forward into the light.

"Airachnid," he called out softly.

O

O

Her spark stopped pulsing. For just a moment, as her optics fell on him, it seemed as if everything froze, around and within her. Then a rush of emotions she had nearly forgotten filled her spark chamber to bursting.

"Beloved," she whispered as the human fell unheeded from her hands and scurried away. "You, you are online."

"I am," he replied softly, his faceplates an unreadable mask.

"I, have been searching for you," the spider-bot continued, moving towards him gracefully. "I thought you were offline, or I would have come back." There was desperation in her tone as she drew near.

O

O

"Stay close, stay low," Arcee suddenly hissed to June as she went into a crouch and began to advance towards the rigid mech. When he spoke terror spiked through the Autobot.

"Airachnid," so softly the femme almost didn't hear it.

The warrior slid around a corner still deep in the shadow and took aim at her enemy.

"Arcee," and urgent whisper claimed her attention as Jack came scrambling around the pile from another direction.

A good part of the tension in her spark chamber released as her optics settled on her partner; alive and unharmed.

"Jack," she murmured in relief.

Mrs. Darby ran lightly up and embraced her son. The Autobot nodded, they were safe, time to end this, but before she could fire June spoke up, low and intense.

"Arcee. Don't!"

The Cycle-bot looked down in confusion and irritation at the woman standing glaring up at her. There was an intense gleam in June's eyes that made the Autobot pause a moment.

"Stay here," the warrior commanded as she prepared to step out.

"Arcee if you take one more step you are forbidden from seeing Jack ever again," Mrs. Darby stated in a voice both low and dangerous; what Jack called her 'mom' voice.

Arcee slowly turned and focused on the woman in shock. It was a preposterous declaration. Even if Jack wasn't so close to maturity and independence his mother would never keep him for the Autobots, and from the smile twitching at the corners of June's mouth she knew it as well as Arcee.

"June, Driver is facing Airachnid out there…"

"Yes!" the human whispered fiercely. "_He_ is facing her. This is his demon to confront Arcee. Not yours, not now. Please, he needs to do this."

The Autobot opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out. June was right. As much as she wanted to offline the Decepticon herself; hers was not the only claim on Airachnid's head. The blue femme nodded reluctantly in the darkness. The two humans immediately stepped forward and each rested a hand on her legs. The Autobot felt the warmth and reassurance of their presence and crouched to return the gesture, touching a servo to each of their backs. Together the three stood in the shadows and watched the painful drama unfold.

O

O

She was so very beautiful as she advanced. Every movement was a dance step. Even under the weak human lights her frame gleamed in the darkness. So many cycles they had spent together, so much time spent loving her, so much pain; memories flickered through his processor like spirits from the past. Her arms were around him now; her servos running up his arms.

"Beloved," she murmured leaning into the miners broad chestplates.

Gently he untangled her limbs from his own frame.

"Commander Airachnid," he said firmly.

She flinched at the words at the tone. A sweet pleading smile pulled weakly at her faceplates.

"You called me Beloved too once, my Beloved."

"My designation is Driver."

He watched the flash of jealously burn in her purple optics for a moment and knew its target. She must know he would never take a name for himself. Someone had given it to him, and he had accepted. Something she had never been able to get him to do. In less than a click the emotion had passed to be replaced by spark-felt entreaty.

"Driver," the name sounded awkward coming from her voice box. "I have wanted to see you for so long. I missed you so badly."

The miner's hand rose almost of its own accord to touch the scar on his face. Airachnid noted the gesture and a flinch of pain traveled down her body. She opened her mouth to speak but the white mech gently laid a single servo across her lips.

"No," he said gently. "I already know. It wasn't your fault. The Captain ordered it. You had no choice."

"Beloved," was all she could get out through the rage and pain that burned through her at his words.

"Always my loyalty to the Decepticons was based one thing. You knew that better than anyone. Now that cannot be held over me. Not by you, not by Megatron; no one. I will not return to the _Nemesis _with you."

"I'm not asking you to!" the femme cried out with relief in her voice.

"What?"

"The Decepticons hold as little for me as they do for you," Airachnid insisted eagerly running her servos over his mesh. "I want to be free of them as much as you did. I succeeded in leaving them, for a time I was free, and now I have a way to be so again! There is a small craft attached to the ship. It is just big enough for the two of us. I can liberate it from Megatron and meet you."

"Airachnid," Driver interrupted her firmly. "You say you were free of the Decepticons for a time? How did you use that freedom?"

The femme's gold trimmed face went blank for a moment.

"How?" the mech pressed.

"You loved me once," she clung desperately to him as he pulled away. "I know you did. You can love me again."

Driver held her servos in his, gently stroking her palms with his thumbs.

"Yes Airachnid," he replied softly, with unbearable pain in his voice. "I loved you before, I love you now, and I will love you until the spark in my chest goes dark. But you have chosen a dark path; one I cannot follow you down."

Her lips parted as if to speak but nothing came out. In the silence she knew he had already made his decision, he knew. Tenderly the miner gathered her up in his arms one last time and laid a lingering kiss on her lips.

"Goodbye," he whispered.

With that he turned and walked toward where the others hid.

Airachnid let out a low snarl and lashed out at the retreating figure. Her talon cut through the sensitive mesh below his shoulder joint and the miner staggered. He turned as he fell so that he was facing the femme. She hovered over him, poised to strike. Driver slowly, deliberately opened the impenetrable armor over his spark, a reminder, an offer. The femme's features were caught in stark relief by the blue glow. Greif and rage chased across her faceplates as she stared down at the mech she had loved, that in some twisted way she still did. With an unearthly howl of pain she fell to her knees beside him. Her faceplate hovered near her audio receptor and the femme whispered something to him before leaping into the starry sky. Driver silently closed his armor, stood, and resumed walking towards his allies.

Arcee stepped out to greet him and he gave her a weak smile.

"Thank you," he murmured, "for letting me handle that."

"Thank June," the Autobot growled as she spun him around to get a look at his injury. "If it was up to me we would have blasted her to Mars and back by now. I."

The femme's tirade was interrupted when the mech pulled her into a fierce hug. She stiffened a moment then realized that he was trembling. With a soft exvent the Autobot returned the embrace and gestured for the humans to join in as well. When June finally murmured that Driver was leaking energon the tangle of limbs disengaged.

"Ratchet," Arcee called out. "Bridge us home."


	22. Lies

Driver 22

Lies

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

Her voice, so often soft and alluring was ragged with emotion as she whispered her last promise into his audio receptor. With a last spite filled comment she had launched herself into the sky leaving him with a dull aching void in his spark.

Driver kept up his rhythmic stroking of the moist concrete in front of him as the scene played over and over again in his processor. It was best to keep his optics on his work, keep his servos busy, and avoid looking into those blue-grey eyes. Jack worked silently beside him; following after and doing the detail work that those small human hands were so skilled at. Every time the miner looked in his face it felt like the human was peering into his spark. Not even Prime had such a powerful effect on him and he found himself almost regretting the growing trust between himself and Arcee that allowed the contact.

Since the cycle-bot had accepted him Jack seemed to be trying to make up for lost time. Maybe it was a function of their short lifespan but the humans, and Jack especially, appeared to be determined to make the most of every moment. So Driver took the young man on drives, stood in the shadows and watched as Optimus groomed him, all the while a faint dread ate at the back of his processor that somehow the clear eyed youth _knew_.

"_I know your secret."_

"Uh, Driver?" Jack asked hesitantly, looking up at the mech in confusion. "Are you okay?"

The miner glanced down at the bullfloat he was holding. His servos had dug grooves across the aluminum surface.

"No, Jackson," he said softly as he returned to the task, "I am afraid I am distracted."

"Is it about what Airachnid said to you?" the human asked gently.

Driver didn't dare look the perceptive human in the eyes. How did he do that? So he only nodded and continued stroking the concrete.

"I know it's none of my business," Jack continued in a voice full of compassion, "and I can never understand, but if you want to talk about it…"

"She promised not to tell my secret to anybot, not Megatron or Optimus, as a parting gift," the miner burst out. "To show me what I was giving up."

The human rocked back on his heels in surprise as the mech waited for him to peruse the matter, but when the question finally came it wasn't the one he was expecting.

"Do you think she'll keep her promise?" Jack asked softly.

The white mech shuttered his optics at the human. He'd expected Jack to demand to know what the secret was. A slow smile spread over Driver's faceplates and a dry chuckle burst from his lips. He reached out a concrete stained servo and gently ruffled Jack's hair.

"No wonder Arcee wanted to keep you for herself," the miner said. He turned and resumed his work and the human did the same.

"Yes," Driver finally said with a long exvent. "She will keep her word, until it becomes inconvenient for her to do so, or until she can achieve some gain by breaking it."

Jack came over and leaned against the miner where he crouched. Driver dropped a hand to rest on the human's back, silently accepting the comfort he offered. After a moment they both returned to work by unspoken consent. It took another hour before the task was finished and a bit more to clean up the tools. When they had put away the last of them the two went out into the silo proper.

Raf called out a cheerful greeting followed immediately by the television emitting a jarring screech.

"Miko!" the boy called out in protest as his avatar reset itself.

"Ha! Pay attention or get off the track Gramps!"

The children's playful banter was cut short by the blaring of an emergency alarm.

"Ratchet! I need an emergency ground bridge!"

"Arcee," Jack murmured as fear lit up his eyes at the panic in her voice.

The green portal swirled to life and a familiar form launched herself through it. Instead of landing with her normal grace the cycle-bot stumbled and rolled onto her side as she landed. Ratchet was at her side in an instant checking her for injuries, but even from across the room the cause of her clumsiness was obvious. Her entire left side was covered in gleaming silver webbing. Jack glanced at Driver and winced at the look of pain glinting in his silver optics.

"…and by the time I got there the Vehicons were wrapping up the mine. I was sticking around to do some recon when she jumped me," Arcee was explaining to Ratchet.

"Driver assist Arcee to the medbay," the medic ordered once he had helped the blue femme to her peds," and do not attempt to remove the webbing. Some has gotten in under your joints Arcee and I will need to use solvent to loosen it if we are to remove the fibers without damage."

The white mech helped Arcee limp along for a few steps before he simply swept the fem into his arms and began striding for the lab. She let out a disgruntled gasp at the sudden movement and squirmed for a moment in his grasp.

"Am I hurting you?" the miner asked in concern.

"No, this is just," Arcee shot a glance at Miko who was giggling at them from the couch, "undignified."

"It is more efficient," Driver said hesitantly, "but if you really want to walk…"

"No, this is fine," Arcee surrendered with a short exvent. "The web really is messing with my joints."

Driver settled her gently onto the medical berth and began to examine where the silver fibers attached to the femme.

"Ratchet's right," the mech said absently as he ran his servos lightly over her mesh where it met the webbing. "If we simply try to force it off it will do damage to you articulators."

Jack smiled into his hand when he saw Arcee stiffen at the touch. Apparently 'personal space' had a different meaning for gestalt members than most Cybertronians; yet another reason the two types had not mixed much before the war.

"Wow, she got you good!" Miko exclaimed as she scrambled up onto the berth. Examining the injured Autobot had a lot more appeal than racing games when the injuries weren't spark threatening.

Jack rolled his eyes at the insensitive girl but if Arcee didn't say anything he wasn't going to.

"I can begin loosening the webbing attached to your armor while we wait for Ratchet to mix the solvent," Driver offered.

"The sooner I'm out of this mess the better," Arcee huffed.

Nodding the white mech began to gently press and pull on the silver threads attached to her thigh. Jack found himself fascinated by the process. As soon as a section of webbing would loosen the mech would transform his servos; sometimes into little drills to burrow into the silver mass, sometimes into tiny wedges to slip against Arcee's mesh and gently pry. Miko however was soon bored out of her mind.

"So what was she like before?"

All eyes and optics shifted curiously up to the girl, unsure exactly who the question had been directed at.

"Airachnid," Miko explained, looking at Driver. "I don't think a sharp bot like you would have fallen for a creeper like she is now so she couldn't have always been that way. Right?"

"Miko!" Jack exclaimed in exasperation.

"What?" she demanded.

"It is fine Jack," Driver interjected with a shake of his helm. "Younglings are meant to be curious, and I do not mind sharing."

Miko stuck her tongue out at Jack triumphantly and moved to perch on the edge of the medical berth.

"So spill!" she encouraged.

Driver returned his attention to the silver webbing still adhering to Arcee's mesh. The silence dragged out for a few more moments only alleviated by the whirring of Drivers servos as he plied at the strands. Just when Miko was about to prompt him again the white mech spoke softly.

"She was always lovely in my optics." There was something in his tone that immediately stilled the words sitting on the tip of Miko's tongue and captivated the attention of everyone in the room. "You're right when you guess she wasn't always just what she is now. When we met she was a pure aerial; a sky dancer."

Arcee drew in a sharp intake and Driver glanced up at her in concern.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, no, it's just… Airachnid was a skydancer?" Incredulity laced the cycle-bot's question.

"Yes," a painfully sad smile pulled up the corners of Driver's mouth. "She was one of the greatest. She danced in Iacon. Preformed for senators and other important bots like that. Outside she worked the spires of the tallest buildings. I don't know for certain how she became involved with the Decepticons…"

"She never told you?"

"Miko! Don't interrupt!" Arcee snapped.

"No Miko, she told me several times; each time a different story. I don't know which of them was true. If any, and I would rather not repeat lies."

"Oh."

"What is a skydancer?" Jack asked partly out of curiosity partly to shift the pain he saw settling in Driver's optics.

"They were originally the mechs and femmes who repaired and tended the tallest spires of Iacon," Arcee offered as Driver was working on a particularly tough patch of webbing. "They had to be graceful and powerful just to survive amidst the wind gusts up there. The ones who were best at their jobs would perform dances based on their work for the elite classes. I can't say I ever remember seeing her in the lists of performers though."

"She was different then; different colors, different alt mode," Driver explained. "But anyway she signed up to be a Con. Trained for espionage. I think she got a lot of information about the high classes out before she was discovered. Then she met up with Shockwave."

Though Driver spoke in a flat matter-of-fact tone of voice Jack noted Arcee stiffened at the name.

"He was doing research in reformatting one class for another at the time," the mech continued. "She volunteered and I was assigned to assist in her reformatting." Something in the mech's spark seemed to grow taught as he recalled those cycles. They had arguably been the happiest of his life. He had his gestalt, he thought he had Airachnid. Was she ever his? Even before she had changed? Or had he only projected his own emotions on her, never really seeing what lay under the constant smile? "It was successful," was all he said on the matter. It hurt too much to drag up the happy memories.

"Yeah, yeah," Miko interrupted briskly, "that's interesting and all but what made her turn all evil?"

Predictably the impetuous child didn't notice the scathing looks the others directed at her.

"Choices," Driver responded without pause; taking the girl's insensitivity in stride.

"What?" Miko demanded scrunching her nose in confusion.

"The choices she made were what led her down the dark path to this point."

"What choices?"

The miner let out a long exvent and his servos stilled as he stared off into space for a moment. What choices indeed?

"I'm not sure when I noticed it first," he went on softly. "But there were two, indulgences I guess you could call them, that were her major failings; lying and," a frown crossed his faceplates, "what is the word that means enjoying hurting others?"

"Sadism?" Jack offered.

"Yes that. She would constantly spin lies to me, to everyone. Where she had been, what she had been doing; little things that supposedly wouldn't hurt anybot. There was no reason for them," Driver clenched his servos, "no reason. Sometimes she would foul our energon rations and laugh while she watched us scramble to purge our tanks. At the time we laughed too."

"But that's just little stuff," Miko protested, her head tilted to one side, "how would that turn her into, you know," the girl waved a hand to encompass everything the spider-bot had become.

Driver stopped working on Arcee and stared at the small human intently. Miko shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. The white mech reached down and gently pulled a single strand of the webbing that had come loose. He held up the impossibly thin fiber between his servos for Miko's inspection; shining a low powered laser on it so she could see it stretched taught.

"Do you know what his is?" the battered white mech asked softly.

"It's Airachnid's web," Miko stated in confusion.

"Yes, just one strand. Try and break it."

The girl arched an eyebrow and reached out. Her hand passed easily through the fiber making the red beam dance and flicker as it was caught in the slowly twisting thread.

"Fragile," the mech murmured, "and yet," he gestured at Arcee still reclined on the medical berth, "enough of them can stop the strongest warriors."

In the silence that followed that comment Miko stared at the webbing covering the cycle-bot as Driver went back to removing it. She drew her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around them.

"So," the girl finally said thoughtfully, "she told a lot of lies and hurt a lot of bots."

"And over time those choices paralyzed her sense of right and wrong. Each small lie made the next one easier. Each act of cruelty paved the way for the next, until the day she tortured my brother to death. Until she became what she is now."

Miko shifted again and suddenly scrambled to her feet with an odd look of consternation on her face.

"Hey Jack you got the number for the school principal?" she demanded.

"No, but it'll be on the school website," he replied.

"Cool, I gotta talk to her about something suddenly."

The others watched the girl scamper off in bemusement. Driver shook his helm with a small smile and turned his attention back to his work. The questions would no doubt haunt him till the end of his days. Could he have done more to guide Airachnid's choices if he had seen her truly instead of only what he wanted to see? The mech felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and glanced up at the femme. Arcee stared down at him with an intense gaze.

"Don't," she ordered softly.

"What?" the mech asked in confusion.

"Don't think you are alone. I've been there. Maybe you could have saved her maybe not. Torturing yourself over it won't do you or anyone else any good."

"You don't torture yourself?" Driver asked with a bitter amusement in his voice.

"Oh, I still do, but I try not to," her optics traveled almost of their own accord to rest on Jack who smiled up at her, "and it helps to have friends who won't let you."

"Indeed," the white mech murmured his own gaze far off.

The moment was broken when Ratchet stomped back in carrying a five gallon bucket of something that smelled rather foul.

"Jack, you better relocate," the red and white Autobot ordered, "I'm not sure if these fumes would be dangerous for you to inhale."

The human nodded and strolled off after giving Arcee a reassuring pat and Ratchet began instructing Driver in applying the solvent. It stung a bit in the femme's joints but she didn't really mind if it got her free, and the white mech was gentle and courteous with the removal process, a refreshing change from Ratchet's abrasive berthside manner. Slowly the clicks passed as the strands were removed. When he was finally done Arcee stood up and stretched joyfully.

Driver quietly admired her. There was no self-consciousness in the action. She was not using her form to intimidate or inflame those around her. The cycle-bot was simply moving for the love of movement and the health she enjoyed. The mech reached up a hand to draw her attention to a lingering silver strand and realized in surprise that he couldn't move his servos. He glanced down and felt a thrill of fear run through him when he saw the silver threads woven round and round his servos. The practical mech squelched the emotion and began picking at the strands in annoyance.

"I _know your secret_."

Another lie. She couldn't know. She could only suspect. He peeled away the strings that entangled his fingers. Lies; hers, his, the humans', unwinding, unraveling.

"Driver!" The slight instance in her voice jerked his silver optics up to Arcee who was looking at him oddly. "What are you thinking about?"

"Lies," he replied softly and let his optics return to the last of the webbing as he pulled it away from his servos.

Without looking up he felt the Autobots presence at his shoulder. The white mech shuttered his optics in surprise as her arms wrapped as far around his shoulders as they could. There was something awkward in the gesture, one she had seen the humans do to comfort each other, but also something very sincere. Driver reached up and rested his hand over one of hers in acceptance.

"Her lies can't hurt you any more Driver," Arcee whispered fiercely, "not you or the ones you love, not here, not now."

With that the femme released him and walked away. Silver optics followed her as they stirred with some deep emotion.

"_I know your secret_."

"No," he murmured softly, as he lifted the webbing to examine it, "not her lies anymore, but my own."


	23. Secrets

**Chapter 23**

Secrets

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

A battered white mech leaned against the wall in the darkest corner of the Autobot base. Silver optics stared off into space blankly while his hand compulsively stroked the natural stone of the wall behind him. Through his processor an image was running; a silver thread wrapping around and around him, binding him, binding him to that which he hated. His servos rose to touch the spot where the Decepticon faction symbol had been. The mark was no longer on his frame, but it was burned in his memory; what he had been, what he had done. But it was not the past, nor the future that was plaguing the mech, but the present.

Choices, did he have any? Of course he did a part of him argued. He could tell the Prime, tell the medic, tell June, tell Raf even; it didn't matter who he told the end result would be the same. Ah, but that was the catch. What would be the result? No one would hurt him; of that the mech was sure. But he would hurt them all. The thought of the pain in Prime's optics, those optics that looked at him with such trust, made the mech shudder convulsively. Little Raf, Driver shuttered his optics and simply refused to finish the thought. But what would be worse in the end? Seeing the looks of betrayal in their faces, or going on seeing the trust and knowing it was unearned?

With a snarl of rare rage the mech slammed balled servos into the wall repeatedly, stopping just short of damaging the newly repaired hand. No reason to give the hard working medic yet more work to do. He observed the damage carefully and committed a small number of subroutines to analyzing the repair job he'd caused. The rest of his processor he cleared. There was only one choice; only one he could make and still keep his promise to Raf. What was it that human cleric had quoted to June when they were out?

"The truth will set me free," Driver murmured as he squared his shoulder guards and strode towards the silo proper. "Primus give me strength."

O

O

The Last of the Primes heard purposeful pedfalls approaching from behind and stopped the data stream he was monitoring to turn and face their source.

"Driver," he greeted the miner warmly.

"Optimus Prime," the mech said formally, "I need to speak to you."

The Autobot inclined his helm and stood there attentively. Driver felt his gaze falter and tried to regain his rapidly evaporating composure while Optimus waited.

"Alone," the miner finally muttered.

The Prime nodded and inclined his head towards one of the back rooms. The two mechs walked in silence; the larger patiently awaiting, the smaller feeling the tension wind in him tighter and tighter. They stopped in the training room and Driver spun to face Optimus determined to get the confession over with. The Prime watched in compassion as the miners mouth opened and paused. There was fear rising behind the silver optics; fear that quickly turned to terror. The Autobot watched as the internal battle was waged. Suddenly the miner's shoulders drooped and his optics dropped to the floor.

"I require more materials if I am to continue refurbishing the base," he whispered weakly. "I have a list."

"Very well, I will convey your message to Agent Fowler for requisition," the Prime replied.

They stood there for a moment longer; Optimus patiently waiting, Driver slumped in obvious shame.

"Driver," the Autobot said softly, "I want to thank you for everything you have done around the base."

The smaller mech squirmed in obvious discomfort under the praise.

"If there is anything else you need to speak to me about please always feel free to come to me at any time."

Driver nodded and turned away. He practically fled down the corridor, away from those forgiving cerulean optics. The mech ducked into one of the back storage rooms and crouched on the floor.

"Coward!" he hissed out through clenched dentia, digging his servos into the floor, "coward!" Why couldn't he just do it? There was no logical reason to keep the secret any longer, if there had ever been one in the first place. Everyone would be safer. He had to tell someone. Driver started to stand; determined to confess, but the ever present specter of fear rose from within him, millennia of conditioning at the servos of the Decepticons and he collapsed with a moan of defeat. _Please Primus,_ he begged silently, _give me the strength to do this. Don't let me deceive them any longer. _

"Ratchet?"

"Yes Nurse Darby?" the medic replied absently as he tinkered with the device on his workbench.

"Have you noticed something wrong with Driver recently?"

The Autobot gave a sound that was remarkably similar to a snort.

"You mean before or after he had to tell the love of his spark to get lost?" Ratchet demanded harshly.

June smiled tolerantly up at the medic's back. The red and white mech did not handle strong emotions well and the situation with Driver set him on edge.

"After," she responded calmly. "I don't claim to be an expert on Cybertronian psychology but it seemed to me that he had come to peace with Airachnid. This feels more like some personal guilt to me."

Ratchet frowned as his servos deftly but absently continued to work over the piece of equipment he was using.

"Nurse Darby," he finally said with a long and tired exvent. "You may very well be right. But remember; in all my years of medical practice I have never heard of any member of a gestalt outliving his unit mates. It is truly unprecedented. There is no way to tell what the long term emotional effects might be. For all I know this might simply be the perfectly normal progression of emotional healing."

The human nodded slowly and turned to leave. Long after she was gone however Ratchet mused on her words. He had come to deeply respect the nurse's opinions over the time they had spent together; more than that he had come to rely on them. He made a note to keep a closer eye on the white mech.


	24. Quake

**Chapter 26**

Quake

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

A brilliant yellow sports car roared into the main silo of the Autobot base disgorging a rolling tangle of slim arms and legs before transforming and staring down; half amused half alarmed at the struggling children. Peals of laughter echoed through the base tainted with just enough desperation to draw the bemused attention of the towering form of Optimus Prime.

"Are you well?" he inquired, but only received a few gasps in answer.

"It's called a tickle war Optimus," Jack offered as he rolled in on Arcee. The young man removed his helmet and grinned fondly down at his friends. "Whoever calls 'uncle' first looses."

"Is the experience pleasurable or uncomfortable?" the Prime inquired in confusion, trying to interpret the mixed screams and squeals coming from the small humans.

"Yes," Jack replied with a laugh, awkwardly stepping around the mock combat to get to the living area.

The Autobot leader exchanged a bemused glance with his second in command but decided that if Jack was unconcerned with the situation he would trust the human's judgment. He was about to return to his station when Driver burst into the silo proper with a deeply concerned look on his faceplates. Silver optics scanned the scene quickly and he strode over to the children and without ceremony scooped Raf up to Miko's wails of protest that she was wining. Optimus moved to intervene and explain that the humans were not harming each other but something in the mech's gaze made him pause. The miner hurriedly set the boy by the communications platform and gave him a nudge towards the control panel.

"Contact your Cousin Pedro!" the mech ordered frantically.

"What? But it's late there and he's on duty right now," Raf protested as he rearranged his glasses.

"There was an earth tremor centered near the mine. Something is very wrong!"

Raf nodded and dialed the code biting his bottom lip in worry as the rest of the base gathered around. After three rings a harried female voice picked up.

"Big Rock mining, Phulomath field office, how can I help you?"

"This is Rafael Esquivel. I need to speak to Pedro de Lance."

There was dead silence on the other end of the line for a moment then the voice came back full of compassion.

"Oh Rafael honey, I'm sorry but there's been an earthquake. We don't know what's going on at the moment. Everyone is going a little crazy."

"Pedro," Raf gasped out. "He was on shift down there."

"Yes sweetie, he was. But don't you worry. Big Rock has the best safety record of any mine of its class in the world. He and his men are probably just waiting for us to dig them out in one of the emergency shelters."

"Do you have contact with him?"

"Not yet Rafael, but I tell you what. I know that you are the closest family he has so if you give me an e-mail address I will put you on the executive list so you'll get updates as soon as we send them out, alright honey?"

"Alright."

Bumblebee reached out a comforting hand and stroked a servo gently against his friend's back as he exchanged information with the woman. The small human leaned into the gesture but his eyes were on Driver.

"How did you know?" he asked the mech when he was done.

"I was able to sense the disturbance in the mantel of your planet. It was not particularly great in magnitude, but there was something odd about it."

"Odd how?"

"I can't say exactly, just different from the others I feel all the time. Unnatural."

"I need to go tell Momma and everyone," Raf suddenly piped up.

Bumblebee whistled cheerfully at him and transformed. Driver nodded absently from the controls where he had pulled up a diagram of the mine from the Big Rock website. After the yellow mech left with the boy he turned to Optimus.

"There is something wrong here!"

"Yeah! There are a bunch of humans trapped down in a mine," Bulkhead responded. "That's way bad but like the lady said they have rescue techniques."

"No," the white mech shook his helm, "I mean there is something wrong about the collapse. See here and here where they are updating the information on the mine structure?" He indicated portions of the three dimensional map that was rapidly changing with more and more sections highlighted in red. "This tunnel shouldn't have collapsed due to such a small quake. And here an underground river has been diverted. It is as if someone was deliberately trying to trap the workers."

The Prime leaned into the display and frowned.

"I am afraid this diagram has little meaning to me," he offered apologetically. "If you say it is so I believe you but tunnel structure is not my forte."

"It's not as clear to me," Bulkhead added reaching up to spin the diagram, "but Miner-bot's got a point. This doesn't look accidental."

"And as humans do not yet posses the technology to create earthquakes," Optimus stated grimly.

"Then the most likely culprit is the Cons," Arcee finished with a growl.

"Perhaps," Driver mused, "but I suspect not."

"What?" Ratchet demanded in surprise.

"My unit was the best mining gestalt the Decepticons ever had," there was no pride in the statement, he was only giving facts. "Something of this delicacy and scale would have been near impossible for us at full strength. With the mechs he has at his disposal now this is far out of Megatron's reach."

"If not humans or Cybertronians, than who?" Ratchet asked with a scowl.

"Perhaps I'm just paranoid," Driver muttered. "Maybe the humans' map is less than perfect."

As if to confirm that last statement several sectors on the map changed. Silver optics flickered as he registered the alterations and the white mech frowned.

"I need to be there," he stated flatly.

Optimus nodded at Ratchet who began dialing the coordinates.

"Shouldn't we tell Fowler?" Arcee suggested.

"I will inform him once Driver has arrived," the larger mech replied.

"As the humans say," Ratchet offered as the Prime transformed and followed the pickup through the portal, "It is easier to ask forgiveness than permission."

O

O

Optimus rolled up behind the white mech as he paced back and forth furiously. They were in a large clearing surrounded by towering trees that dwarfed even the Prime. He transformed and quietly observed the miner's actions. What at first appeared to be random pacing soon resolved into a pattern. The mech would stride a set number of paces in one direction and strike down at one of the large granite boulders that littered the forest floor. His other hand would splay its servos over the rock as he listened for the returning echoes. From the quivering of his fully extended helm antenna Driver was clearly maintaining contact with the Big Rock home site.

"Their information is fairly accurate if incomplete," the miner mused aloud. Not quite talking to himself or the Prime. "Something _is_ wrong here though."

The red and blue mech waited silently. His comm. unit activated with a call from Agent Fowler and he responded. Somewhat to his surprise the agent only requested to be groundbridged to the location and the Prime acquiesced readily. Again surprising him the agent brought Raf, Miko, and the Darbys along. It spoke volumes about Drivers concentration that he didn't pause his efforts to greet any of them. Nurse Darby, Miko, Jack, and Agent Fowler took off together with Bulkhead to offer their services to the human rescue teams already on site. Raf, Arcee, and Ratchet stayed behind quietly observing the pacing mech.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" the boy asked Optimus softly. "Nurse Darby is going to sign up with the Red Cross, Agent Fowler is coordinating the US National Guard with Canada's stuff, and even Miko and Jack are old enough to volunteer."

Watching the miner growling in frustration the Prime slowly nodded. He lifted the startled Rafael from the forest floor and placed him without a word on Driver's broad shoulder. From months of practice Raf balanced easily on the battered white plates. At first he thought that the mech didn't even noticed him but then a hand lifted and servos absently stroked his back; giving comfort, seeking it. The boy glanced over at Optimus and grinned, suddenly understanding. He shifted his full attention to the busy miner and snuggled into his powerful neck. A pleased rumble came from within the massive chest. Of all the things Driver was meant to be in work or play; alone was never one of them.

After what seemed like hours but must have been only about forty-five minutes Fowler returned from the base camp that was rapidly forming for the rescuers. He was accompanied by a balding middle aged man in a battered three piece suit that he still managed to wear with dignity. His face was grim and the brown eyes that looked up at the Cybertronians were searching for some hope. Fowler introduced him as Mr. Brown the local head of the Red Cross effort and reassured the bots he had clearance.

"I guess you guys have a pretty good idea of the situation?" the agent demanded curtly.

Optimus inclined his head to Driver who finally stopped his movement and came over to the humans. The newcomer showed none of the usual signs of awe the Autobots were used to inspiring but, Optimus mused if this human was accustomed to dealing with disasters he was no doubt quite mentally flexible. For now the man seemed content to observe.

"The situation changes so fast even I'm having a hard time following it," the mech growled. He felt so close to his gestalt here the urge to reach out to them was almost unbearable; straining what would already be a tense situation. "But basically yes."

"Good, then maybe you could tell me, cuz all I'm getting from the mine is a bunch of contradictions," the Federal agent growled furiously. "We lost contact with the crew that is trapped down there minutes ago but it doesn't sound good."

"That's about right," the white mech muttered.

"What?"

"I am sorry to be so vague," the white mech crouched in front of the human and gently set Raf on the ground. "This situations is, strange. I know no other word for it. This entire thing feels like a staged attack on the miners to me but there is no group, no one, I know of who has the power to have arranged something that needs so much power and so much delicacy. Logic says it must be a coincidence, instinct says not."

The obvious frustration in the miner's voice stilled the harsh words rising in Fowler's throat.

"But as of this moment the surviving miners are trapped in one of the safety rooms the mine built. All of their exits to the surface have been blocked. An underground river has been diverted by the quake and is flooding the chamber they are in."

"Our best drills can reach them in twelve hours if nothing else goes wrong," the previously silent human offered.

"They have six at the most."

A small cry escaped Raf at driver's pronouncement and he grabbed the agent's hand. Soft tan fingers entertained with Fowler's scarred brown ones in a gesture of pleading. The agent smiled and knelt to address the boy.

"Hey kiddo, sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Pedro is down there and fine," a cry of relief escaped the boy, "the mine has already updated your family via that system you helped set up. Your cousin is a bit of a hero you know? He ordered everyone into the safe room as soon as the first tremors hit. There would have been a lot of deaths if he hadn't. Now he's keeping the crew together from what I hear; keeping them calm and working together."

Raf wrapped his slim arms as far around the agent's middle as he could and gave a grateful squeeze.

"Begin the rescue operation your kind have planed," the sudden order snapped them out of the moment.

Driver was standing in the orange light of the setting sun staring at the ground. There was something commanding to his presence that the others had never seen before. He was in his element.

"I can monitor your efforts easily enough so as not to interfere with them. I assume you would prefer to not make my presence known?"

"If at all possible," Fowler replied, "but if their lives depend on it, well, I can always do another cover-up."

"My crews will be so focused on assisting those in need that they will probably not recognize you anyway," the other man assured them absently. "I offer my thanks in advance but I really must get back to work."

The Autobots nodded to him as he strode back towards the base camp.

"Not terribly impressed with us was he?" Arcee asked with a grin.

"There are lives on the line," was all the explanation Fowler could offer. "Sweet Mamma's Apple Pie, look at him!"

Lights were flashing frantically over the white mech's frame as various antenna extended and retracted, twisting this way and that to catch the very pulse of the planet's mantel. "I will try to divert the river's flow. That should greatly extend the amount of time you have to perform the rescue. I will try to make it appear to be a natural occurrence. Failing that I will simply provide a tunnel for them to evacuate through."

"Sounds good to me," Fowler responded.

The mech took three rapid steps back and transformed. His shape was long, thin, and segmented; looking for all the world like an earthworm. The new form seemed to nuzzle the earth for a moment almost caressingly; asking permission to enter. Then without fanfare or noise it slipped into the rich Canadian soil.

O

O

Driver had been in difficult situations before as a miner, but this was simply unbelievable. He shifted direction once more as the strata below him changed to soft shale threatened to clog the mechanism he had formed for drilling through the solid granite. It seemed as if some malevolent force was counteracting his every move. He was being forced to transform repeatedly, straining the newly repaired welds throughout his frame. He had near instantly given up on the idea of simply diverting the water and simply focused on reaching Pedro and his men.

The emergency beacon that marked the trapped miner's location was the only constant in this shifting world. But every time he tried to drill down towards it some new obstacle blocked his way. There were pockets of explosive gas that formed, forcing him to stall his drills so fast internal drive trains warped. Rushing rivers of ice cold water would divert, threatening to chill his internal systems into immobility. Finally with a roar of frustration the mech reversed his course and headed back to the surface.

O

O

Fowler was still holding the trembling Raf in one arm as he spoke calmly into a satellite phone with the other when the earth in the middle of the clearing began to boil. Driver surged out, transforming even as the dirt and debris fell away from him. There was a set look of determination on his face as he staggered to his knees. Raf cried out and ran up to him and the mech gently placed a reassuring servo on his shoulder.

"I failed," he said flatly glaring at the ground.

"Not entirely," Fowler spoke up. "Whatever it was you were doing slowed the water influx to the safety cavern. You bought the drill teams some time at least."

"Not enough," Driver frowned, if his actions acted as a distraction than that added weight to his suspicion that this was an actively developing attack on the humans. But he had seen no evidence of the perpetrators. "I can't do this. I can't save them…"

"Hey," Raf interjected, "you did your best."

The white mech silenced the boy with a touch.

"I can't do this on my own."

"We will provide any assistance you require," Optimus stated firmly he glanced at Fowler in anticipation of the human seconding his offer in the name of the human governments, but the man was dialing the phone he held while seeming to suppress a relieved grin. The Prime dismissed the oddity as Driver continued.

"No, none of you are miners. Bulkhead may be useful but you cannot do what I need."

"Airachnid?" Arcee suggested softly.

"No!" Driver growled out. "Enough discussion, Agent Fowler."

"Yes?"

"I hereby release you and your government from the oath I extracted from you when I first initiated contact."

Surprise flickered across the assembled Autobots. What was he talking about? Fowler however seemed nonplused.

"I need, Fowler are you listening?" Driver demanded.

The human was speaking rapidly into the sat phone and nodded in the miner's direction with a huge grin.

"Of course I was, now what was it you needed?"

"Them."

"They are on their way," the man said; grin settling into a smirk, "ETA just under two hours."

"Who? Some specialized human rescue team?" Ratchet asked in confusion.

"How?" Driver asked in shock.

"I've been expecting this for some time now," Fowler admitted ignoring the medic's question and the confused looks of the other Autobots. "I knew it was only a matter of time until Prime got to you and you cracked so I had protocols put in place for when it happened. Didn't expect it to be this dramatic , but I've had a C-130 prepped and loaded since you bridged out today."

"Hey curious Autobot's here," Arcee piped up. "Anytime you feel like clueing us in on what's going on?"

Driver paused and turned to face Ratchet. He very deliberately opened an access panel on his chest and displayed the single glowing light. A look of dawning comprehension began to flicker in the medic's optics and he drew in a sharp gust of air. The miner transformed a single servo into a welding tool and carefully reformatted certain neural pathways he had deliberately left unhealed. He braced his processor as he finally allowed himself to reach out. A wave of joy rushed in to greet him, overwhelming his senses.

O

O

Driver collapsed twitching on the ground with an inarticulate joyous cry. Ratchet was at his side in an instant, running his scanner over the mech.

"By the Matrix, how is this possible?" he muttered.

"Ratchet?" Optimus asked in concern.

"He will be fine," the medic snapped curtly. "The reintegration simply overloaded his processor temporarily."

"What reintegration?" Arcee demanded.

In answer the red and white Autobot rolled the miner onto his back so the others could see the open panel. Eleven nodes burned brightly, woven together with an intricate web of light.

"The reintegration with the rest of his gestalt mates."


	25. Revelations

**Chapter 25**

Revelations

"Fowler!" the tone in Optimus's voice demanded an explanation.

The agent turned to the Cybertronian and gave a long sigh. From the amused expression twinkling in the human's eyes the Prime deduced that he feared no censure for what he was about to reveal. Indeed, it looked like he expected Optimus to be pleased, but before he could speak up a shaky voice called out.

"Optimus, please don't be angry with the humans. This is all my doing," the white mech's voice grew stronger as he staggered to his feet.

"Easy Driver, you need to rest," Ratchet cautioned as he helped the miner to his feet.

"No, good medic, I need to work!"

Driver turned back to Optimus and there was a steadiness, a confidence in his faceplates that the Prime had never seen before.

"I was the first to wake from stasis. I scouted the local human villages. All I could remember clearly was the Autobot commander telling me he had made contact with the locals and they were friendly. I took my alt mode and watched the people. I knew that my crew could be happy there." A guilty look crept over the white mech's faceplates as he continued. "I kidnapped the local law enforcement officers and demanded to speak to their commander. When they arrived I threatened to kill the inhabitants of the village unless my demands were met." The white mech's voice broke at this confession and his optics fell to the ground. "I demanded that the rest of my gestalt be allowed to live among the people of the village. In exchange for that and their silence, I would sever my link to the gestalt and surrender peacefully to the Autobot commander. The rest you know."

The gathered Autobots stood around the shame faced miner in blank astonishment. A thousand questions presented themselves to each but Optimus simply shook his helm and signaled for quiet.

"With the aid of your gestalt you will be able to rescue the trapped humans?"

"I think so," a grim look settled on the mech's faceplates. "Right now I can't even get a clear picture of what is going on down there. I will know more when they arrive and we can deploy the scouts."

"What can we do to help?"

The miner turned to Fowler.

"The men will need medical care and comfort when they come out right?"

"Sure as they're red blooded humans!"

"That man; Mr. Brown, can you have him set up a place ready to receive them somewhere isolated? If we have to bring them out fast it would be easier to cover up if we didn't have to take them to the main camp."

"On it!" Fowler agreed striding off after the Red Cross worker.

"Driver?" Raf suddenly called out. "When your gestalt-mates get here will they be as scared of the Bots as you were? I mean should the others hide?"

Driver crouched down in front of him and gave a smile so beautiful he caught his breath.

"No, from the moment they connected with me they knew all that I know of the Autobots. They are not afraid. We are all eager to meet you all."

Raf smiled a bit crookedly at the odd jumble of pronouns. It was disconcerting he had to admit. Driver stood and his faceplates took on the look that the children had dubbed the 'surfing-the-net' look as he gathered information. A frown flickered over his mouth and he turned to Prime.

"The water is rising faster in the cave. I will go and attempt to keep it manageable while we wait for the rest."

The Prime nodded and Driver slid easily into the ground. Once he was gone Arcee turned to Optimus with a frown.

"I can't say I like this Optimus, he's been lying to us the entire time."

"Indeed Arcee," Optimus replied with a tired exvent as Agent Fowler came back through the woods.

"And what about you Fowler?" the cycle-bot demanded of the human. "Why did you keep it quiet all this time?"

Fowler hesitated and let out a laugh.

"Well like the mech said at first he was holding the entire village hostage. By the time Agent Johnson called me out to the scene they were pretty worked up."

"Agent Johnson was involved?" Optimus asked his optics narrowing at this new complication.

"Yes," Fowler confirmed, "but only in his capacity as an FBI agent and representative for Uncle Sam," he hurriedly assured the leader of the Autobots. "There aren't that many of them in that area so they wear a lot of hats. And anyway Driver's demands were very reasonable. As to why we never bothered telling you later; well, I had given him my solemn word as an officer and a gentleman, didn't want to break that. As for the rest of the unit, they were no trouble from the moment they woke up. Each of them just sort of naturally chose a human partner from the village right off and have been the most productive little guys you can imagine. The villagers stay quiet because they don't want to lose them." Fowler paused and shook his head with a small grin. "There's really no way to explain it exactly without sounding mean. You'll understand when you meet them. But I'll personally vouch for every one of 'em if Driver's word isn't enough."

Arcee looked somewhat mollified but still offended. Optimus let his processor wander over the conversations Driver had tried to have with him. The Prime had been well aware that the mech had something on his processor that he felt needed to be confessed, but the Autobot had suspected it was something dark, not this joyous news. Despite the act of deception something in his spark had swelled when he realized the news. Ten lives, ten sparks that this war had not claimed.

"Why didn't he tell us?" Arcee was shaking her head in confusion. "I mean I understand at first he was afraid that we might offline them but after everything we've been through together you'd think he would have trusted us enough to share."

"Arcee," Optimus offered with a grim note in his voice, "for a short time you yourself were at the mercy of a Decepticon."

The femme looked at the ground and winced at the memories.

"Driver has lived the majority of his life under those circumstances," Optimus continued. "Fear and caution were burned into him. It takes more strength to break such chains of habit than many mechs possess. Yet when it was important, when lives were on the line, he did tell us."

Arcee nodded deep in thought. Suddenly the sound of a powerful engine roared over head.

"There's the C-130," Fowler called out eagerly. "They will be air dropping in."

As if on cue the rear of the plane opened and a swarm of forms in parachutes dropped out. The decent was rather dignified until they hit the tree line. The mechs in protoform and their parachutes caught and tangled in the tall trees. The was the sound of crashing, wood splintering, and general chaos for several minutes and then thumps as they finally hit the ground. Ten Cybertronians ranging in size from just smaller than Driver to no bigger than Raf surrounded the Autobots with curious smiles. The Autobots and Fowler eyed them warily.

"Raf!" a small musical voice broke the silence.

The two little copper mechs suddenly darted forward, causing the Autobots to tense. But their green optics shown with joy as they stopped just short of touching Raf.

"We been."

"Want to meeting you!" They declared in turns.

"For hours and hours!"

"You like,"

"Us, you help and small!"

"Driver say."

"We be friends with you!"

"But need to ask."

"You first! So."

"We be friends?"

Raf blinked at them in surprise and adjusted his glasses as a huge grin split his face. He reached out and grabbed a hand on each of them.

"Of course we're friends! You must be the scouts!"

"Yes I am Thing One!"

"And I am Thing Two!"

"Our humans named us," they chorused proudly.

"Uh oh!" Ratchet muttered scanning the little ones.

"What is it Ratchet?" Optimus asked with a frown.

"Their names are a literary reference to a classic human work by Dr. Seuss. Nurse Darby introduced it to me. It is not a good indicator of things to come," the medic predicted dourly.

The largest of the miners, a lanky creature of sunset red with a long sad faceplate, stepped forward and addressed Optimus.

"Prime, I Shift."

Whatever else he may have been intending to say was lost in a spray of earth. Driver stood for a moment staring at his brothers with undisguised joy, and then all eleven mechs converged on the same point in space. The Autobots and their human friends watched in amazement as the gestalt formed. It was impossible to say when or where it happened. There were eleven bots, and then there was one great mass of Cybertronian movement. The being shifted constantly, a swirling statue raised to joy and motion. If Raf looked too closely at any one part the individual mechs were invisible, but he discovered that if he let his eyes lose focus just a bit he could sort of keep track of them by the colors. That copper arc was Thing One, or possibly Thing Two. The red wrapping around the black was Shift.

As suddenly as it had begun it stopped and there were now eight mechs standing slightly apart from the Autobots. Driver strode fearlessly up to Optimus and stood tall.

"Prime! We are ready to work!"

A hum of eager agreement came from the rest of the gestalt. Agent Fowler didn't really hear Optimus's reply. He was eyeing the gathered mechs and trying to figure out which ones were still merged. He just about had it when Driver let out a high musical note. He dove into the ground so fast the Autobots didn't even have time to register what form he took. The two little scouts skipped across the forest floor as if looking for a place to enter before deciding to drill in from the top of the largest piece of granite they could find, sending rock shards flying. Three of the midsized mechs, each little larger than Fowler, stayed above ground, but from the looks on their faceplates it was clear their processors were with their brothers. Two took up positions on either side of the clearing and their limbs transformed into root and vine like structures that dug down into the soil. The third transformed his arms into two massive pile drivers and began to steadily strike the forest floor in between them. Even the humans could feel the vibrations through their feet.

Mr. Brown walked back into the clearing and looked at the proceedings with mild interest. He filled Fowler in on the status of the secondary rescue camp and left as unobtrusively as he had arrived. Optimus noted his professionalism with approval. All they could do now was wait and trust to the workers below ground in the kingdom of the earth.


	26. Rescued

**Chapter 26**

Rescue

Pedro De Lance; he was forced to admit ruefully, had had better days. Still he tried to remain cheerful, or at least optimistic. At this point he was praying he could hold onto sane.

"Hail Mary Mother of Grace," the man next to him was whispering serenely.

Pedro clutched the older man's shirt desperately even as he envied him his calm. He had already been through the Hail Mary several dozen times and while it was calming he was pretty sure he would never have Francesco's poise. The lukewarm water lapped at his face as he hitched the shorter man closer to the clinging hands of the rest of the crew on the ledge while treading water. They had managed to deactivate most of the electronics before the flooding got too bad so there was no risk of electrocution. A small comfort at least.

Overhead on the ledge illuminated by dozens of headlamps a cracked voice began to sing. It was an old hymn, well known to most of the men and several more joined in. The collective singing abilities of his crew would have given a professional an aneurism no doubt, but it gave the men something real to hold onto in the dark. When one of the younger men suddenly cried out for it to stop it took several attempts to get quiet.

"There it is again!" he shouted hoarsely. "That weird drilling sound! The rescue team!"

"Yer' daft boy!" one of the others growled at him. "There's nawt in our machines that makes a noise like that."

"But it is a drill! Right?"

"Or something else," another voice muttered darkly.

Pedro's mind whirred frantically, trying to come up with something to calm his men.

"Enough of that," the old man he was holding onto called out. Pedro looked at him gratefully. "The kid is right. There's something coming and it is a machine. Or rather they are machines."

"Yes! I can hear more than one," another voice agreed.

"Quiet!"

The miners listened eagerly now. There was definitely something drilling towards them. The sound wove back and forth in the cavern and a thoughtful frown crossed the face of the old miner. Pedro may not have had his experience but he understood. No drill known to man moved like the one they were listening to now. Even assuming more than one and taking into account the acoustics of the cavern the noise was simply moving too fast and changing direction too readily.

"Two of them are below us," the old man said curiously staring intently down into the dark water.

Pedro wasn't quite as sure in all the noise but he did seem to hear two lesser ones below him. They appeared to be moving along the length of the cave floor. The noises changed periodically almost as if they were breaking through the rock. Pedro suddenly drew in a deep breath and nearly lost his hold on Francesco. For a brief moment two gleaming green eyes had stared up at him out of the darkness. He exchanged a worried look with Francesco. The last thing they needed was the men to get worked up over something superstitious. He prayed no one else had seen it.

"Tommyknockers!" someone breathed in fear.

Pedro winced and desperately tried to think of something to say, but he was saved when a voice called out from overhead.

"The water level is falling!"

Sure enough the lapping waves were receding slowly but steadily down the wall. The men began to cry out in relief. Pedro exchanged a cautious glance with the older man at his side. The odd noises made sense if small drills had been sent down to open drains underneath the cave. He had seen designs for just such unmanned drones but they were still in the development stages and decades from any practical prototype. Nevertheless the water was dropping unexpectedly. Soon the workers above had to let go of the two men and not long after the taller Pedro found the steel toes of his boots brushing the stone floor.

When the water reached chest height the decent paused. The faint but ever present sound of shifting rock began to increase; creeks and pops and rumblings that every miner knew to fear. Tommyknockers they were called in the UK. Pedro knew and he had heard the natives here speak of such creatures in hushed whispers but he had never heard a name given. Over and above that noise however there was another; machines. Drills ground on all sides of them, the solid thumping of supports going up, the steady chinking of powerful blows against the granite walls. No one spoke up, no one truly understood what was going on, but it was clear there was a battle going on; machine against malevolence.

The water rose and fell as one side or the other gained the upper hand. Pedro could hear the prayers going on above them more earnestly now that they had a specific focus. Eventually it became clear that the water was trending down. When it had dropped to ankle level cheers began to break out. One by one the miners helped each other down from the ledge they had taken shelter on. As shift foreman Pedro began directing them in assessing the tools they had while Francesco moved quietly among the men speaking soothingly, praying with them, and gripping shoulders in the spaces where only the human touch had power to calm. Not for the first time the younger man found himself profoundly grateful for his senior's presence. Just when they were completing their inventory the cavern was plunged into sudden silence.

Men grabbed onto one another looking frantically around the cave. The battle was over. There was no doubt in any of their mind that whatever the outcome they would know soon. So it was with relief they heard the sound of a powerful drill start up and begin to advance steadily towards them.

"Everyone gather on the far wall," Pedro ordered.

The men complied silently, their eyed riveted on the now vibrating wall producing the sounds. Seconds seemed to stretch into eternity as the noise grew louder.

"It's is so quiet," one man whispered.

Pedro nodded. Any drill he knew of should be making far more noise than the one approaching him. His gloved fingers idly traced one of the new drill holes in the floor. It was unbelievably smooth.

"Men," he called out, as much to break the silence as inform the crew. "Eye protection and ear protection on, and remember. These are probably some kind of top secret prototypes were looking at here. We are all going to have to sign confidentiality statements most likely so don't speak about anything we have seen or heard down here until we have a chance to talk to the big boss."

Murmured assent rippled around the huddled miners. No one had been particularly looking forward to retelling the event of the past few hours anyway; at least not to someone who wasn't a miner, who didn't understand about the things that were never spoken above the ground. With one final tremor the wall exploded in a blinding shower of dust. For a brief second through the dust and the haze the man though he saw the bulky form of a man standing there, filling the new formed tunnel, then a blinding cloud of black dust filled his vision and when it dispersed the passageway was clear.

The crew stood slowly, hesitant to accept the miracle handed to them.

"Time to go," Francesco called out cheerfully. "The Good Lord has provided us with a way out and we need to take it."

Pedro began to organize the men into groups of three; two healthy to one wounded, and they started up the path. The foreman paused at the entrance startled. His head, helmet and all, came less than a third of the way to the peak. The man like form he had seen filling it must have been… The miner shook his head and focused on moving with his men, not ten feet in however they stopped dead. Sitting there neatly in a row, noses pointed upslope was a motley assortment of vehicles. They ranged in size and form from two man ATV's to two full sized pickup trucks. The crew's eyes locked on Pedro for some explanation. In turn the young man turned his gaze on his elder. Francesco merely shrugged and proceeded to help load the miner sporting three breaks in his leg onto the bed of a sky blue quarter ton Chevy.

"The Lord has provided," he repeated serenely.

The miners exchanged odd looks at that but were not much more inclined to question their good fortune, especially when the knocking started again behind them. Looking nervously over their shoulders the men loaded into the vehicles which all started on their own without the aid of keys but refused to move.

"Foreman?"

"Yes Petersen?"

"I think this one is for you sir."

"Why do you say that?" Pedro asked with a frown as he approached the last rig in the line; a battered white pickup.

"It won't open for any of the rest of us sir. Everyone else has found a seat but M. Francesco says they must all leave together. He says this one is waiting for you."

Pedro was pondering this when a roar came from the safety cavern behind them and the structure collapsed with a rush of gas and dust. The door of the supposedly locked pickup sprang open and without hesitation the two men leapt in. The instant they were secure the red pickup in the lead started off. The odd convoy accelerated quickly and they were soon tearing up the twisting tunnel at speeds that had the men screaming; not entirely from terror.

The foreman tried to study the tunnel as they went. It varied slightly in size but was always far larger than most manmade structures he had experienced. The winding path was explained by the many fissures and weaknesses in the rock it bypassed. Where the tunnel was too weak to support its own girth it looked as if raw metal had been pulled from the earth to shore it up with great bands of copper and iron. Granite slab had been seamlessly embedded in the roadway to provide traction where the walls turned to shale. In one spot, that had even the solid Francesco shouting, a bridge had been erected across a deep fissure; a narrow, rail-less bridge that the convoy took at full speed.

The tunnel must have been miles long. For even with the speedometers pegging seventy the trip lasted well over two hours. It was with screams of joy that the half terrified, half exultant men welcomed the bright lights that nearly blinded their cave accustomed eyes. When they saw the Red Cross on white flapping in the breeze many simply broke down and began crying. Pedro saw one young miner make a daring attempt to kiss an oddly familiar and pretty nurse that was helping him out of the station wagon. The woman easily batted away his attempt and handed him over to a young man who was glaring daggers at him.

In the rush to get his men tended to Pedro soon lost track of the mystery vehicles that had pulled them from the darkness into the fresh air. When he thought to check no one had seen them for hours. Then any other thoughts were swept from his mind as Selena was calling his name and he was holding her in his arms.


	27. Consequences

**Driver 27**

Consequences

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

There is something about the peace and quiet of the North woods that inspires a man to ponder. As Pedro de Lance lay in the cot provided for him the events of the previous day kept running through his mind. Earthquakes happened. He knew that, knew it was beyond the ability of man to predict them, but what had followed was simply too odd to accept as coincidence. All four safety tunnels around the mine been blocked off. It was as if some unseen force was herding them into the shelter cave. And then that strange battle they had heard between the drills and the cave itself.

The man sighed and tossed fitfully, wishing Selena was here. She had gone back to their house to spend the night on the phone reassuring their respective large and extended families that they were safe. She might know better how to handle that soldier who had appeared out of nowhere with the American confidentiality agreements for them to sign, or rather handle his Canadian crew who had wanted nothing to do with it, only relenting when the mine owner had put down his foot. Most of them had forfeited the sleeping tents in favor of the long drive back to the nearest pub, while Francesco had headed for the nearest chapel to pray in thankfulness for their rescue, leaving their tired and sober foreman alone with his thoughts.

Prototype drills, malevolent caves; Pedro gave up sleep with a sigh and rolled into a sitting position. He was debating a trip to the bathroom vs. a trip to the commissary when a small noise at the edge of the sleeping area caught his attention. Pedro glanced in surprise at the tent flap and the small form half hidden there.

"Rafael?" he called out softly in astonishment.

"Pedro," the small boy cried out in relief and darted forward into his cousin's waiting embrace.

"Why were you hiding back there little one?"

"I didn't want to wake you if you needed your sleep."

"Well after everything that's happened I need family more than I need sleep," the man assured him tightening his grip.

Raf let out a small whimper and buried his face in Pedro's powerful chest.

"I was so scared," he whispered.

"Shh, little one, shh," the man soothed him' stroking his thick hair as he rocked back and forth. "I am fine now and I have an amazing story to tell. We are all safe."

Raf nodded and the two simply clung to each other for several minutes until a thought occurred to the man.

"Hey, how'd you even get here so fast?"

Pedro watched a blank look appear under the tears and felt Raf squirm uncomfortably.

"I ah, snuck along with a volunteer group that came out of Jasper," the boy admitted sheepishly.

"Does Aunty know you're here?" Pedro demanded.

"She knows I'm with the Darbys," Rafael hurriedly assured him, "just not that I'm here exactly."

The man gave a soft laugh and shook his head.

"Raf, that is seven different kinds of illegal. They took you across state and international borders."

"You're not going to tell anyone are you?"

"No, little cousin. But if you can sneak back before she misses you that would be best."

"Yeah, I better get going," but the small boy's grip on his cousin didn't loosen.

The miner smiled and gave him one last reassuring hug before prying the small arms gently from around his neck.

"The Darbys huh? That means that sweet nurse and the kid you hang out with? You don't want them to get in trouble do you?"

"No."

"Well then you need to get back home. I."

A soft inquisitive chirp came from the tent flap. Pedro sucked in his breath and clutched Raf protectively as a pair of glowing green eyes peeked around the canvas. The boy let out a squawk and before the man could react had wriggled out of his arms and darted over to shove the little copper head out of the light.

"Ha, you're right. I need to get back to the, ah, plane, right. Love you Pedro!"

The man blinked as he listened to the boy franticly struggling with someone and whispering. Finally the boy called out something that sounded like Driver and the noise subsided. The miner blinked and shook his head in confusion. There was more than one mystery here. The meeting had left him feeling refreshed however and he was able to drift off and was soundly asleep by the time the rest of the crew came roaring back in from the pub.

O

O

Ratchet had long ago decided that Primus took a special pleasure in torturing him personally. Today was definitely one of the days that made him believe it with all his spark.

"And so we are."

"Standing there."

"Telling big dog not."

"Eat Mama's pretty."

"Flowers because."

"We need them for."

"Cousins wedding."

"And Mama come out."

"And tell us come."

"Inside it not a dog."

"It moose!"

Rafael burst out laughing and kicked his heels against the medberth in delight as the story wound to an end. He was sitting between them holding a hand each for Thing One and Thing Two who were hooked up to various tubes and scanners. Officially Raf was in attendance as assistant nurse to Mrs. Darby, in reality he was there to keep some semblance of order. A job he was performing admirably the medic had to admit. Most of the miners he had examined already were stoic and solid types who took his scans and exams with seemingly infinite patience. Without the human boy however, neither of the Things would stay still long enough for him to attach the blue vital stats cables let alone run any decent scans.

When Ratchet had demanded that Driver keep his scouts in line the white mech had looked at him with pleading silver optics and simply said that it had been millennia since he had seen them so happy and outgoing. The medic had ground his dentia in frustration but let the matter drop. Several hours of chasing the little monsters around his medbay had finally ended when Raf had come in from school and the scouts had latched onto him and started up an endless stream of chatter. Over the course of the exam Ratchet had learned that their humans were a set of five year old twins who had the prettiest Mamma in all of St. Mary's village, the details of the lives of every child in the preschool, and an exhaustive list of all the animals in the village.

It seemed impossible that it had been less than a day since the miners had burst into their lives. Ten extra bodies filled the silo with noise and life. Shift and the rest of the larger gestalt members were already helping Driver with repairing and improving various parts of the base. As a matter of form Prime was restricting them to the less sensitive area of the silo for the time being, but the trust it had taken so long for Driver to earn was being rapidly granted to his unit mates.

Even if they didn't fully understand the reasoning, no bot among Team Prime, not even Ratchet, could hold the deception against Driver. Like Fowler had had said. It was something you had to experience to understand properly. As Miko had thoughtlessly pointed out; except for Driver, the cumulative IQ of the miners made Bulkhead look like a genius. There was a gentleness and, softness to them as a whole that was both foreign and attractive to the hardened warriors. It was difficult to distrust mechs who had so wholesparkedly placed themselves in the Autobots hands.

"There we go, all done," Ratchet finally found himself saying with a forced grin. "You can go now."

"Are you."

"Sure you don't."

"Need us to stay."

"Some more?"

"We like you!"

The grin on the red and white mechs face plates threatened to crack and Raf jumped down off the med berth hurriedly.

"Come on you promised that Miko and I could race later!"

"Yes race!" they chorused.

The scouts transformed as they leapt from the berth and landed as gleaming copper three-wheelers. Raf didn't so much get on one as the ATV scooped him up and clamped a helmet on his head while the other tore off to find the fun loving Asian.

"Thing Two! Watch out for the wall!"

Ratchet shook his helm in amusement. Somehow Raf could tell the little hellions apart. A feat no other inhabitant of the base could. Even the other gestalt members had to pause and check their position if they were too close together. Happy screaming indicated that they had found Miko and the race was on. Ratchet let out a low groan and returned to analyzing the data he had gathered.

O

O

Optimus stood at the main computer screen monitoring the current engagement. They had hardly gotten back from the rescue when the alarm had gone off for an energon signature. Bulkhead and Arcee had deployed and had quickly gotten bogged down in combat. They were handling it but it had been sufficiently distracting to keep him from addressing the issue of what to do with the miners. Arcee had just called for a bridge when the proximity alarms sounded. He acknowledged Fowler and opened the bridge. The Prime was softly conversing with his second in command when the human strolled in through the elevator doors.

"Prime," he called out his usual greeting but without the usual intensity.

The human looked exhausted, Optimus noted sympathetically.

"How are the new bots doing?"

"They appear to be adjusting well to the base. Ratchet has just finished their physical exams and should be analyzing the data now."

"Good, you guys feel comfortable enough yet to let them call off base?"

"I do not see that as being a problem," the Prime replied his optics narrowing in confusion, "but may I ask why?"

"Cuz I got an entire town of paranoid, I mean concerned citizens, breathing down my neck. Their human friends are all certain that the big bad government has whisked the poor helpless E.T.s away for diabolical experimentation."

A smile spread across Optimus's faceplates and he nodded agreeably.

"I will arrange for them to contact their home as soon as possible."

"Good, because we might have a little rebellion on our hands otherwise, and those bush towns are well armed."

"Agent Fowler!" A sky blue mech approached the two smiling, "Optimus Prime! Good day?"

"It's getting better," Fowler replied with a grin of his own. It was difficult to keep up a bad mood around the gestalt. "How're you doing Big Blue?"

"Good! New friends!"

The miner came up and leaned happily into Optimus, who only started a bit before dropping his arm around the friendly mech. Differences in the concept of personal space were one of the things Team Prime was having to get rapidly used to.

"Well that's just great, but your old friends are getting antsy without you."

"Pete?"

"Yep, so I need you guys to each call and calm your people down."

"Okay," the blue mech agreed readily.

"I will assign a communications line for that purpose," Optimus informed him, "will you call the rest of your gestalt over here?"

"Why?"

"To use the comm. line."

"I here, they use."

"I see," Optimus said arching a brow. "I will give you some privacy then."

"Privacy?" Big Blue asked curiously.

Fowler let out a chuckle and shared a meaningful look with Optimus. The two left the blue mech at the controls and walked towards the medbay.

"It's amazing Prime," Fowler said softly, "how much they've improved."

"Improved, Agent Fowler?"

"You didn't see them before they were reunited with Driver. It wasn't just emotional; they moved different, and I'm pretty sure their collective processor power went up several points." The human paused and frowned thoughtfully at the blue mech. "I am sorry now I didn't just tell you everything from the start."

"You had given your word Agent Fowler," Optimus reminded him, "and all things considered this is most likely the best outcome. My Bots were able to interact with Driver on a personal level and earn his trust. Meanwhile the rest of the gestalt was able to integrate into human society."

Fowler nodded reluctantly.

"Is there perhaps something else you are keeping from us that we might wish to know?" Optimus inquired half jokingly.

The agent gave a tired laugh and shook his head.

"Oh, heaps and heaps! But nothing pertaining to Cybertron," the agent hesitated however and the Prime arched an optic ridge.

"At least not that we're sure of," the human amended. He glanced up at Optimus and shrugged. "I guess now is as good a time as any to bring it up. Remember the fiasco with the energon harvestor?"

"I do."

"And all those dead Cybertronian soldiers buried on Earth?"

"Yes Agent Fowler."

"Well; ever since the miners showed up claiming that the Autobot captain who imprisoned them had actually made contact with humans not three-hundred years ago the brass have been wondering if there might be other records of Cybertronian involvement in Earth's history that we didn't recognize because we didn't know what to look for. So long story short they assigned a team of uber-history geeks to start trolling through the records for anything that looks like a Bot or a Con."

"That sounds like a daunting task," Optimus offered.

"Don't we know it!" Fowler huffed. "Given that many of the oldest and most accurate records are still hard copy, unorganized, and in the hands of powers that are downright hostile to Uncle Sam it is near impossible. That said they think they might have a few leads but it is so vague I didn't think it worth your time."

The Prime hesitated for a moment the prospect crystallized in his processor; needed information, scattered across the world, recorded in dozens of different languages, and stored in different ways. He found himself unable to hide the desire in his voice when he responded.

"I would be glad of any information but I understand the challenge you face."

Fowler heard and correctly interoperated the undertone in Optimus's voice. He stared up at the leader of the Autobots and smirked.

"You really are a librarian at spark, just like Ratchet said."

The Prime gave the human a small smile.

"I chose the path of a warrior, but had circumstances been different I would have gladly ceded the title of Prime to another and continued in my post at the Iacon hall of records."

They were approaching the back storage areas and their attention was drawn to the hall in front of them. Driver and six other of his gestalt were sitting cross-legged in a circle where two halls met, their helms bent forward and almost touching. On hearing the approach of the Prime they started as if out of stasis and shuttered their dimmed optics repeatedly. Driver got to his peds and addressed the circle.

"I think we have done the best we can for now. I will report this to Prime."

The group disbanded with small defeated chirps and the white mech approached Optimus and Fowler.

"Should I leave?" the agent asked.

"No this concerns you as well," Driver responded. "Do you remember how I was unable to answer your questions about how I came to be in stasis where I was when we first met?"

"Yes."

"While it is true I was hiding some information from the Autobots at the time I simply could not remember many details. I had hoped reintegration with my gestalt would restore my memories but it appears that the degradation that affected me has damaged their memory circuits as well."

"So is that a long way of saying that you really don't know anything that you haven't already told me?"

"No. We do remember more; more images, more details, but I am still unable to access the designation of the Autobot captain who saved us or that of his ship. I do think we have figured out what got our memories tho; a virus."

Fowler flinched visibly at that.

"And there's more," Driver continued with a frown, "I'm sure of it. There is something important that I need to tell you but we can't remember."

"Do not overly concern yourself my friend," Optimus said as he laid a soothing hand on the miner's shoulder. "The memories may return on their own or they may not. We must simply wait and see."


	28. Bonds

**Driver 28**

Bonds

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"There is still the question of what we are going to do with them Optimus," Ratchet said softly as they watched Thing One and Thing Two racing around the silo carrying Miko and Raf.

"Indeed old friend," the Prime replied, "but for now let us simply focus on getting them into the best state of health that you are able."

"Whoo hoo!" Miko called out as the copper ATV squealed to a stop at the peds of the two bots. "Best. Ride. Ever!"

"Go fast!" the scout chirped happily.

"You are going to make an awesome Con crusher!" Miko growled happily.

Thing Two let out a startled chirp and transformed, throwing the girl onto the floor. He looked at her with frightened green optics before running over to where Driver had been repairing a machine by the wall. The white mech scooped up the little one to his chestplates and hummed soothingly to him.

"What did I say?" Miko demanded in confusion, rubbing her sore bottom.

Driver got up and carried Thing Two over to them. The little copper helm peeked over the white arm and peered searchingly up at Optimus.

"No want fight."

Thing One had more gently deposited Raf on the ground and rolled over to stand beside Driver.

"No want hurt."

"Anyone, anymore."

"Driver say you no."

"Make us fight."

There was fear in the gleaming green optics that stared pleadingly up at Optimus. The prime knelt so he was optic to optic with Thing Two.

"You have my word little one. On one will make you harm another."

The deep voice had a calming effect on the on the scout and it snuggled back into Driver's chestplates chirping. The white mech bent and scooped up the other scout before returning to his corner.

"What was with that?" Miko demanded. "Don't they want revenge?"

"No Miko," Ratchet replied softly as he watched the happy mechs moving around the crowded base, "I'd say that revenge is about as far from their processors as anything."

A tone from the computer called for the medic's attention. He abruptly dismissed everyone with a grunt of, 'data's ready'. The slim Asian harrumphed in annoyance and crossed her arms.

"So how come you are still here?" she asked in annoyance.

Raf shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"Mamma and the two oldest are on their way up to visit Cousin Pedro with Abulita so the rest of us get to stay with friends. That means I stay with Jack."

"Nice."

"Hmmm."

"Uhoh," Miko said turning to the red and white medic. "That was your bad noise."

"Not necessarily," Ratchet rumbled absently. "This is just odd."

"What is odd?"

"Driver," the medic called out. "Would you please come here for a moment?"

"Yes Ratchet?"

"Now please don't take this the wrong way but are you certain that this is all of you?"

"We eleven are all that is left of the gestalt," the white mech confirmed shifting the Things in his arms.

"And you don't have one, oh perhaps, permanently merged with another, or something?"

"No Ratchet," Driver replied in confusion. "That is impossible."

"Well could you explain this then?" the Autobot waved the miner towards the screen where the data he had compiled from all their exams was displayed.

The white mech was perplexed at first but then his optics fell on a diagram in the center of the screen. It was a display of the bond itself; lights interconnected with fine lines. He shuttered his optics rapidly and then began scrolling through the data page by page.

"Is there a chance your data is wrong?" he asked, by now the rest of the gestalt had caught wind of his astonishment and were gathering behind him curiously.

"Hardly!" Ratchet said with a loud exvent.

"What is Driver?" Shift asked.

"According to this readout," the white mech responded, "there are twelve of us."

A ripple of astonishment went through the gestalt as Ratchet watched. They began to move and murmur to each other. Suddenly they moved out to the center of the silo and formed a circle. Their optics dimmed as the collective focus turned in toward the gestalt bond. Arcee and Jack came out of one of the storage bays carrying various devices and stopped to watch. Raf scratched in irritation at the Cybertronian tattoos on his neck as he observed in fascination. He looked eagerly up at the medic.

"Is it possible that there is another one out there somewhere Ratchet?"

"That is one possibility," the medic mused, "but there is another. Are you familiar with the concept of phantom pain?"

"You mean where someone loses a limb but it still hurts sometimes?"

"Yes, this could be a similar manifestation. The signal is very weak and they didn't notice it until I pointed it out."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when the gestalt merged. The great humming machine that sat in the center of the Silo was very still. Then the humming took on a strange joyous note. One by one the mechs peeled away to come and circle the group at the computer. Raf shifted uncomfortably as he realized that eleven pairs of optics were suddenly focused on him. Jack and Arcee moved forward a bit nervously.

~_Brother? Where is the extra water purification unit stored?_~

"Um, in storage bay five. Why?" Raf asked jumping slightly at the question.

Thing One squealed with delight and flung himself into the boy's arms knocking them both to the ground as the circle of mechs began humming in satisfaction. Seeing the confusion and slight fear on Ratchet's faceplates Driver quickly shooed everyone but the Things away.

"What's going on Driver?" Arcee asked quietly.

"We found the source of the twelfth signal," he announced with a huge grin.

"What is it?" Ratchet demanded

"Did you hear the question Thing One asked Raf?"

"What you talking about? Thing One didn't ask him anything," Miko insisted.

"He did," Raf protested, "I heard him."

"But that's impossible!" Ratchet sputtered as it dawned on him what the mech was driving at. "Raf doesn't have any Cybertronian circuitry."

"What's impossible?" Raf asked distractedly as Thing Two attempted to pick him up, "but I do, remember."

"Of course the nanobots," Ratchet gasped.

He turned his scanners on the boy for a moment.

"To the lab!" he declared spinning on his peds.

Raf looked up at Driver in confusion and the mech smiled sympathetically. He held out his hands for the children to climb into and walked after the medic. Arcee shared a confused glance with her partner and the two of them followed. They watched as Driver set Raf down on the berth, pausing only long enough to stroke his back reassuringly. The Autobot grumbled to himself as he ran a series of scans and examined the results.

"Well this is interesting."

"What?" Raf cried out in exasperation.

"You remember your nanobots of course," Ratchet stated.

"Yes the ones Jack and I got when Orion Pax took us to the vet on Cybertron."

"Well for some reason they have synchronized with the gestalt bond."

Raf blinked in surprise at that and looked pleadingly up at Driver for an explanation.

"It mean."

"You us now!" the Things eagerly stated scrambling up to embrace him from either side.

"But how?" he asked, curiosity taking precedence over his shock.

"I suspect it happened during the escape from the Decepticons," Driver explained. "It is the only thing I can think of. I was leaking nanobots profusely and you received several lacerations that I failed to protect you from. My own systems must have infected yours and overwrote them."

"And the inherently flexible nature of the gestalt nanobots allowed them to migrate out of your epidermis and into your central nervous system," Ratchet took over the explanation. "This is why you are now able to hear their communications."

"Not just their communications," Raf gasped. "I felt it when you were repairing Driver!"

"What?" Ratchet demanded.

"I kept getting these weird ghost pains all over my body while I was waiting to hear how it turned out."

"You felt that?" Driver asked guiltily.

"It still doesn't make sense," Ratchet fumed. "That might explain the communications ability but the gestalt bond is not a function of circuitry! It is the synchronization of life forces. Energon is a far cry from whatever the human's equivalent is. There would have had to been a synchronization of life force within a very short time of the nanobot contamination."

A startled cry drew their attention to Jack who was standing with his hands clamped over his mouth.

"Do you have something to add?" Ratchet asked archly.

"Well," Jack said a little too quickly. "It did happen with me, I mean with the sparklings."

"Sparklings are a different matter entirely," the medic said dismissively. "Their life force is still malleable and intended to synchronize with the one they imprint on. Driver's is an adult and his very life force must have been in flux for this to happen.

"Ratchet!" Driver's voice called the medic out of his scientific haze. "Does this pose any danger to Rafael?"

"No, none that I can see."

"Rafael," Driver's voice was suddenly tender, "are you okay with this."

The boy tilted his head to the side and nodded slowly.

"You are all already like family to me," he whispered hugging Thing One and Thing Two close.

"So does this mean Raf gets super powers?" Miko demanded.

"He will be able to communicate with the rest of the gestalt with practice," Driver offered a bit confused at the term.

"Boring!" the girl called out, and skipped out of the medbay.

Jack shook his head and smiled at her retreating back.

"I need to get going. I promised some friends I'd meet them at the car wash to work on an assignment."

"I won't be able to give you a lift Jack," Arcee responded with a frown.

"I'll be fine one my own for a few hours partner," Jack said easily. "I'm going to take the bus."

Shift poked his red helm into the medbay and inquired if it was his turn yet. Driver explained that they didn't want to overwhelm Raf at first so they had agreed to take turns properly welcoming him. Ratchet ran a few more tests after the room had cleared out and then turned Raf over to the gestalt with mixed feelings of scientific awe and frustration.

O

O

Fowler was talking with Optimus when a call came in. He listened intently and conferred with the Prime.

"Ratchet, please ready a ground bridge to these coordinates," the Autobot leader ordered.

The medic obeyed without really taking his optics off the readout he was studying. The green portal swirled to life and two figures walked through.

"Mr. Brown, Mr. de Lance. I am Optimus Prime. Welcome to Autobot Base Omega."


	29. Assignment

**Driver 29**

Assignment

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"Driver would you please summon the rest of your gestalt," Optimus requested.

The white mech nodded with a curious look at the two humans and within moments the rest of the gestalt arrived in the crowded silo with Raf perched on Big Blue's shoulder. Pedro's eyes met his cousin's and the two gave a mutual gasp of surprise. The blue mech gently set Raf down and the boy ran to embrace the man.

"Okay little cousin," Pedro said when they disengaged. "I'm guessing there is a lot I'm missing here. Care to clue me in?"

"Just watch and listen," Raf said with a grin.

Driver ran a critical optic over the crowded space and gave three commanding chirps. The Autobots started as the gestalt preformed one of the sudden synchronized dances that only they were capable of. The actual movement was too swift for the optic to follow, but the end result was two pyramid structures. It was not a true gestalt meld as each individual mech was clearly visible and staring expectantly at Optimus, but it would have been nearly impossible to tell where one ended and another began. June walked in from where she had been working in the medbay and accepted a seat offered her on one of the structures as Optimus began speaking.

"It has been a joy to all of us to welcome you into Autobot Base Omega. Your presence had lightened out sparks as well as our workload."

A ripple of grateful amusement went through the Autobots. There wouldn't be any basic maintenance needs to perform in the base for months.

"If you so desire you are welcome to make your home on this world, here with us."

The miners purred happily and it was as if a wave of contentment washed over the base. Optimus stood silently and let the moment fade naturally before continuing in a more somber tone of voice.

"That being said; you have already established a place for yourselves in the hearts and homes of the people of this world. We will not hold you here if it is your wish to return to them."

The gestalt shifted imperceptibly closer to Raf where he was sitting and the boy suddenly felt waves of reassurance washing over him, their response to his fear of them leaving, a palpable reminder that they would always be close now. The boy wrapped his arms around Pedro tightly for reassurance as the Prime continued.

"Also to be considered is the fact that your kind were never meant to be warriors, and this is a military base. If you stay here the likely hood that you will be involved in a battle increases with every day."

A tremor of fear passed over the audience.

"As of right now only Driver's existence is known by the Decepticons. That too may be sacrificed if you stay here. The choice is yours."

There was the briefest of hums and Driver stepped forward. Raf felt a sad knot form in his gut. It might have been the bond he now shared with them, or it might have been simple logic, but somehow he knew they wouldn't stay.

"Optimus Prime, on behalf of my gestalt we wish to extend our gratitude. You and your Autobots have shown us more kindness than we ever expected, far more than we ever deserved and our time here has been the happiest I can remember. But you are right. We are no warriors, and this is a place of war. However, what we are, is workers, miners, back in the village there are people who love us but little for us to do, and we must do something."

"And that is where they come in," Fowler interjected gesturing towards the two men by Rafael. "Driver, and the rest of your crew. You have abilities that this planet needs. That mine you rescued those men from? It was one of the safest in the world and it still came close to snuffing out everyone in it. Miners do die, far too frequently. That is why we are proposing creating a rescue unit. Basically you mechs, and whatever people and supplies you need to do your thing, based out of your village."

Silence fell over the room as the mechs pondered Fowler's words. June shifted and looked squarely at Fowler.

"Who's funding this?" she asked.

"In the wake of all these recent quakes and cave-ins Big Rock mine is in the process of setting up a trust for the research and development of new and better rescue equipment and better safety procedures," Fowler explained. "We couldn't keep everything that happened in that mine a secret from the owner but he seemed content to accept that it was a top secret military rescue unit. He sent his best engineer," Pedro blushed and looked at the ground when Fowler pointed at him, "to analyze the situation and report back. He, meanwhile, is going around schmoozing up the other companies and getting them to contribute."

"So we would be performing rescues?" Driver asked.

"That's about it."

"Could we also perhaps offer suggestions?" the mech pressed, eagerness in his silver optics. "I understand that Optimus doesn't want Cybertronian tech to fall into human hands but there is so much untapped potential in your own abilities. We could tell you how to make your mines safer and less polluting, how to build better drills, and what resources are still undeveloped."

Raf felt the eagerness building in his cousin as the white mech went on until Fowler raised a had with a depreciating smile.

"Whoa the big guy. Me? I'm just the messenger here. That you would have to talk about with your crew."

"Agent Fowler," the serious tone of caution that laced the Prime's voice called everyone's attention. "This sounds like a wonderful idea. But I would not see the balance of power on your world greatly disturbed, and in any conflict the mining of resources will always give an advantage. I would not see the gestalt become a pawn in your world's power plays as they were in ours."

"A perfectly reasonable concern Optimus," Fowler stated, "and one we have considered ourselves. That's where Mr. Brown comes in." The agent waved to the Red Cross worker and stepped back.

The slightly grey, middle aged man stepped forward. There was nothing about his appearance to call attention to the man, from his drab brown three piece to his nondescript green eyes behind simple glasses, but when he spoke everyone, both human and Cybertronain felt compelled to listen.

"I must admit there is much I do not know. But Mr. Fowler has informed me that there are eleven refugees," he hesitated as if trying to count the gestalt, "in need of shelter. Refugees who have skills we could put to good use. If it is your concern that these skills be used for the betterment of this world while remaining useful I humbly offer my services."

"And who are you that you can claim to be a neutral party?" Optimus asked curiously.

"I represent a group known as the Red Cross and Red Crescent. We have been a recognized neutral organization since before the majority of modern nations have existed. From our inception we have been an international organization dedicated to helping those in need. Though we strive towards peace we were born out of war and it has always been for our actions in times of war that we are best known; tending to the wounded of both sides, assuring that there is fresh water for the civilians affected, and providing lists of the wounded and dead for the families back home."

The gestalt began chirping eagerly and one of the scouts detached and ran up to the human eagerly.

"You mean we wouldn't have to fight?" he asked seemingly unaware that he was suddenly the focus of astonished attention in the room, "but we could travel and explore this world helping people with others who do the same?"

Mr. Brown smiled and crouched down to address the small Cybertronian.

"That is the idea. A mining unit would be an excellent addition right now, and if you were wearing our badge no one would question your presence at any disaster site. In fact anyone wearing this," he indicated the red cross sewn onto his breast, "is welcome pretty much anywhere on this planet."

"Oh! Can we Driver? Please!" the scout turned entreating green optics on the larger mech.

Driver walked over and knelt in front of Pedro.

"We would be working with you?"

"I, I think so," the young man gasped.

He shot a glance down at Raf who smiled back up at him reassuringly.

"Driver… wait! Driver! You're that expert miner Raf has been hanging out with all this time! The one who was so concerned with the weird stuff going on at the mine."

Fowler couldn't quite stifle a chuckle at the look of mixed astonishment and dawning comprehension on the other man's face.

"Does Aunty know?"

"She knows I have been spending time with a master miner named Driver but she doesn't know what species he is."

"Oh, and you want me to work with you?"

"Well in a sense we already have been working together for some time now," Driver responded with one of his rare smiles.

Pedro immediately relaxed under the warm glow. He gave Raf's shoulders a quick squeeze and stepped forward. Within moments the two miners were deep in a conversation regarding the needs of the crew and setting up in the small village they would call home. The rest of the gestalt disentangled themselves and scattered out into the base followed by the rest of the Autobots. Mr. Brown was earnestly conversing with Optimus and Agent Fowler. June walked over to Raf and gave him a smile.

"Can I assume you will want dinner here tonight?"

"Yeah, and could?"

"I have a meal big enough for half a dozen hungry boys waiting to be popped in the oven," she promised.

"Thanks Mrs. Darby! Hey, will Jack be there?"

"I'm not sure. He said the study group might be out late today."

O

O

Jack sat in a corner booth at Red Chief's Classic Car Wash, staring out the bay windows at the Nevada desert. The vinyl seats were hot where his bare hand touched them when he wasn't nursing the large drink on the table. Finally he spotted what he was looking for and leapt eagerly out of his seat. The young man jogged out to where a gunmetal grey semi was pulling into one of the large private wash bays in the long cinderblock building.

"Sal! Zech!"

"Hey Kid! Ready for another round of training?" a deep voice rumbled happily as the door slid shut behind them.

A tall young man leapt out of the cab, his long black pony-tail spilling out from under a battered cowboy hat. The two humans embraced warmly and then separated to retreat into the safety of the control room.

"Hit it Zech!" the semi called out.

The young man complied and hot water began gushing over the gunmetal grey form.

"So," he said turning to face Jack, "something tells me you have more on your mind than a few meditation exercises."

"I think I might have messed up big time," Jack said nervously rubbing the back of his head.

"Okay," Zechariah Franklin raised an eyebrow and reached out casually to flick the suddser on. "Go on."

"One of my 'other friends' was hurt really bad rescuing another friend. I was helping Mom and the Doc in the ICU and, well."

"You used what I've been teaching you to help him along," Zech guessed. "Okay, I'm going to go out on a limb and say you did it without his permission. Not the best way to handle it, but you are in a unique situation so I can't see how that is messing up big time."

"That's not exactly it," Jack said shaking his head. "Look, you told me that when I use my life force to heal or support another's it kind of brings both into synchronization."

"Yes, and I also believe I pointed out that you are at heart more a warrior than a healer so your abilities would be kind of limited that way."

The suds ended and the grey semi picked up half a dozen brushes and began scrubbing himself down.

"Yes, but right after I got done with my 'other friend' I went and did the same thing for another friend who wasn't as badly injured. But he was exposed to something and I guess the double synching did something I didn't intend because now he has this connection to them and."

"Wait Jack," Zech was frowning in concentration now, "not here. Sal!"

"Not done scrubbing yet!"

"Rinse off now! We need to hit the road."

"What? But my detail work!"

"Since when have you cared about that?"

"Humph! Okay hit the rinse cycle."

Once the big rig was rinsed and they were back on the highway Zech turned to Jack.

"Okay, from what little I do know your friends have a very sensitive, for the sake of this discussion let's call it an aura, that for some reason it is incredibly easy for someone with our abilities to manipulate. That would explain how you were able to bring it in synch with a human aura, but you are telling me that you were able to tie that human to him?"

Jack nodded. He carefully explained what he knew of the gestalt while Zech listened. However it was Sal who finally interrupted him.

"Okay, so what? Humans do that all the time," there was slight annoyance in his voice.

"What?" Jack blinked in confusion.

"the bond you are describing does sound like a fairy common technique," Zech confirmed thoughtfully. "It is within you abilities. I'm just surprised it worked on a voidwalker, but given what you've told me of the gestalt bond perhaps it shouldn't be so surprising. It is usually only temporary but prolonged bonds never hurt anyone that I'm aware of. "

"Look, I just want to know if Raf is in any danger," Jack said urgently.

"Not likely!" Sal snorted.

"Sal's right," Zech confirmed with a grin, "unless you felt something bad you're not telling me?"

Jack shook his head.

"Then don't worry about it. Just keep an eye on Raf and call me if you notice anything. Sal and I have a similar bond to what you've described. He shares it with all our siblings."

Jack relaxed into the seat and smiled.

"Now, I think it's time to move on to some more complicated tasks. Are you ready to begin."

Jack nodded and let him mind refocus. He looked up at Zech just in time to yelp as a ball of energy shot out of the other man's fingertips and caught him in the shoulder.

"That was a basic attack," Zech said with a grin. "Figure out how to deflect it."

"Hey! Not in my cab!"


	30. Farewell

**Driver 30**

Farewell

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"That looks good on you," June Darby stated softly, staring at the black and gold emblem freshly emblazoned on the grill and canopy of the Cybertronian; a gold pickax on a black circle. Miko had designed it and the miners had readily adopted the new symbol in place of the despised purple badge.

"We can't accept the Autobot symbol," Driver had explained to her, "no matter what Optimus says we do not deserve it after all we have done. This will do for us."

The woman now stood in her garage smiling sadly at the battered white pickup sitting in the center. The driver's side door opened silently in invitation and the woman slid in. She rested her hands on the steering wheel and relaxed into the warm black material of the seat. The truck pulled out onto the road and headed out of town, but not towards the Autobot base, June noted idly. The heat from the setting sun filled the cab and soon lulled the woman into a drowsy state.

Driver rolled on until they came to a bluff overlooking the town of Jasper and the surrounding desert. Warm oranges and browns spread out before them before merging into distant mountains. He stopped and just sat there in silence for awhile.

"June," he finally began, "tonight we return to the village. Pedro has already got us half a dozen jobs lined up. We will most likely be too busy to come back and visit for some time. I wanted to say goodbye to you privately first."

In the silence that followed June reached up and gently stroked the dash. Her hands ran over the scars that marred the ebony surface, reminders of his past the mech could never shake. The woman understood that such scars ran deep. She only prayed that those on his spark would heal now as well as those to his frame were.

"I cannot express what it has meant to me to be accepted into your family, that you trusted me," the mech hesitated as if he wanted to go on but only let out a soft exvent. "Thank you."

The woman rested her forehead lightly against the top of the steering wheel and smiled.

"You are very welcome Driver. Your presence has been a blessing to me as well; in so many different ways. All of you."

"June? Can I ask a personal question of you?"

"Of course Driver."

"Is it okay to want to be alone sometimes?" there was concern in his voice.

"I can't say for Cybertronians, but for humans it is necessary. No matter how much you love someone sometimes we simply need to get away into the silence.

"I see," Driver replied softly.

"Why do you ask?"

"I find myself craving solitude now," the mech admitted with a trace of shame in his tone. "Not all the time and I never want to interrupt the gestalt bond again, but now sometimes I just like to be alone."

"And what do the others think about this?"

"I shared the feeling with them completely. They understand of course. Some of them are actually trying it themselves."

"So what is the problem?"

"No member of our unit ever had such a need before. It is, strange."

"Driver," there was warmth in her smile as she stroked the seat reassuringly, "all this means is that you have grown and changed over time, as do all living things. Perhaps you simply never had the chance to appreciate alone time before, but I don't think it will be a problem."

The faux-diesel engine rumbled thoughtfully.

"Are you ready to say goodbye?" he finally asked.

"Yes."

"Ratchet, this is Driver requesting a groundbridge."

O

O

Autobot Base Omega was a hive of controlled chaos. Ratchet had carefully constructed a list of all the items the miners would need to set up their new base and that the Autobots could spare, only to have Shift laughingly toss it aside and compile a much shorter list.

"Eleven Autobot need lot of things," the red mech had explained with a grin. "Gestalt is most things it need."

Even with the shortened version getting everything organized was quickly turning into a mess. Ratchet found himself fervently wishing for the presence of Prowl. This was exactly the kind of situation he thrived in. One blessing at least, he thought, Miko had pinned both scouts down in the human's living area and all three were chatting away happily out of everyone's way.

O

O

"So how does that work anyway?" the slim Asian was insisting, her head leaning forward eagerly.

"How what?"

"Work ?"

"Back when you were talking to Mr. Brown and suddenly started spouting of like a freaking dictionary!"

The two scouts stared at each other curiously as they pondered her words. Their optics dimmed as they reached out to their gestalt trying to understand her question. Suddenly Thing One's head popped up and he grinned widely.

"Do you mean when my brother began speaking like this?"

"Yes!" she shouted, jabbing a finger at him. "That!"

The scouts burst out laughing and grabbed the pointing hand.

"Gestalt share."

"Everything!"

"We talk."

"Like this."

"Usually."

"When need to."

"Talk better."

There was a subtle shift and Thing Two looked her straight in the eye.

"We simply 'borrow' a portion of the processing capacity and vocabulary of our brothers, usually Driver."

"So can you do that with Raf now?"

"Not so."

"Much with."

"Newest brother."

"Not enough."

"Metal parts in him."

"But some!"

"That's cool! Hey! Could you give me some of your nanobots so I could do it too? That would come in real handy during finals week."

O

O

Ratchet started as Shift let out a cry of surprise.

"No! Miko, put down the syringe!" the red mech shouted into the air of the storage room.

Ratchet snarled and rushed towards his medbay.

"Miko!"

O

O

Driver and the Things stood before the groundbridge speaking quietly. The rest of the unit had shared their goodbyes with the Autobots and gone on ahead to the village. Ratchet walked up and handed the last packet of medical supplies to the white mech.

"Well, I have to say I am going to miss having you around the base," the medic admitted gruffly. "It was nice being able to hand over the repairs to someone I could trust not to break everything."

"I am glad you found me useful," the miner replied with a smile.

"Look Driver, I'm sorry I wasn't able to repair your scout chamber…"

An aggravated chirp came from their feet and Ratchet glanced down in surprise.

"Not scout."

"Chamber anymore!"

"Little human."

"Chamber now!"

"For carrying."

"Small human friends!" the Things declared indignantly.

"Yes, yes," Ratchet couldn't quite suppress the grin that crept over his faceplates. "So you've repeatedly sated you little troublemakers."

"So are we ready to go?" a voice called out.

Pedro strode over hefting a backpack onto his shoulders with Raf following along beside.

"We are Pedro," Driver confirmed holding out a hand for the larger human.

The young man easily swung up to sit on the mech's broad shoulder and grinned over at the approaching Optimus.

"It would seem that this is goodbye for now my friends," the Prime greeted them.

"Save for one," Driver interjected.

He knelt down and addressed Rafael.

"Brother, we would leave you here as our emissary to the Autobots. Do you accept this responsibility?"

The boy nodded and reached out a hand to grasp Driver's.

"I accept it," he replied formally.

His brown eyes sought out his cousin's face.

"And Pedro is going to be your human friend from now on, right?"

"Yep, I gotta get over there and start looking for a place for Selena. She can't wait to meet my new team." He nudged Driver playfully. "I just hope she won't be too surprised when she sees them."

"Then depart, knowing you are welcome here at any time," the Prime said warmly.

Ratchet activated the groundbridge and Driver strode through.

"Wait!" Thing One suddenly shouted.

"Almost forgot!" Thing Two declared.

One of the copper mechs shot over to Raf and clamped its mandibles down on the boy's shoulder. Raf let out a startled yelp. There was no pain from the pressure but a powerful vibration ran through his body.

"Now you."

"Officially miner."

"Now!"

With that the things ran through the event horizon and disappeared.

"Are you okay Raf?" Ratchet asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah, it didn't hurt at all."

"Perhaps some miner tradition," Optimus suggested.

"Maybe," Raf said. "I'm gonna go find Bumblebee and have him take me home. I think he hid so I could say goodbye to Driver and Pedro alone."

As if on cue a bright yellow sports car came tentatively around the corner and chirped inquiringly. Raf laughed and jumped into the open door offered. They tore out of the base and were soon cruising down the highway towards Jasper. A series of chirps and clicks brought a fresh smile to the boy's face.

"It's okay Bee. I understand. I'm kind of glad too. I love Driver and all but it is nice for it to be just us again."

The boy idly scratched his neck as the Autobot responded. A faint itching was spreading out across the skin where the tattoos were, but it had nearly faded by the time he got home and Raf had nearly forgotten it when he woke up the next morning. He was walking sleepily towards the bathroom when he heard a gasp.

"Rafael Esquivel! What is THAT!" his mother demanded in horror.

O

O

Pedro de Lance woke to the strident ringing of a phone. Where was he? Oh yes, the bed and breakfast in the village. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and clumsily groped for the device. His hands finally found the bulky tan hand piece and brought it to his ear.

"Hello? Aunty! Good to hear from you! Wait, what? Calm down. I don't know, of course Raf wouldn't lie about something like that. What? Tattoo? Ah, please put him on. Yes, of course. Raf? What is going on?"

The young man was thoroughly bewildered by the string of shouted accusations from his aunt.

"Pedro," Raf's voice was oddly strained, "I was just telling Mamma how one of your new crew gave me this tattoo on my shoulder. You know the black circle and golden pickax?"

The young man's mind whirled as he tried to make sense of what Raf was saying, and not saying; the miner's symbol, tattoos. Suddenly he remembered something Thing Two had mentioned, something about 'fixing' Raf's nanobots properly so he was marked properly.

"Oh scrap! They made it so the nanobots all migrated to your shoulder didn't they? So now they're not covered by the stuff Doc Ratchet gave you."

"Yes, and Mamma is really upset. So I told her how I begged you to let me get one because I was so sad about you leaving, and..."

"Calm down cousin, I got this. Put Aunty back on."

"Well?" a woman's voice demanded.

"Okay Aunty, first off this is all my fault, and I am so sorry I didn't tell you. Raf was really depressed about me moving even further away so I know this guy, very clean, very sanitary, who does semi-permanent tattoos…"


	31. Afternoon Tea

**Driver 31 Epilogue **

Afternoon Tea

A Transformers Prime Fanfiction

"Mmmm, that smells good," Jack Darby commented as he dismounted from Arcee.

"What does?" the femme inquired as she drew the air over her chemical sensors. The base was full of volatile compounds but she couldn't detect anything new.

"The tea," her partner explained. "Someone must have broken open Mom's special stash. I'm going to go grab me a cup before Fowler gets here."

The young man jogged up the stairs and tilted his head in confusion when saw the set up. He could hear the electric kettle just beginning to simmer. The nice tea pot his mom had donated to the kid's equipment was sitting in a neat circle of cups surrounded by all the accoutrements of afternoon tea. The young man frowned. Had he forgotten something important? Although June Darby drank tea regularly she only set it all out this nice for special occasions. He shrugged and poured himself a cup, listening to the steady typing coming from the computer area. Raf must have been busy.

"So Fowler is coming later to finish up the paperwork for Driver's crew?" he asked Arcee.

"Yes, Ratchet and Optimus are back doing inventory in storage. Doc Bot used up a lot of raw material repairing them."

Jack nodded respectfully to the Prime as he walked into the room carrying a datapad. Optimus returned the gesture and began to speak quietly with the blue femme. The human idly reached over and unplugged the kettle as it came to a full boil. The ground proximity alarm sounded and a familiar yellow muscle car swung gracefully into base. A frown creased his face as first Rafael and then his mother climbed out of the car.

"Oh Sweetheart!" Mrs. Darby called out as she sniffed the air, "you put on tea for me!"

"No," Jack said frowning into the amber liquid, "I thought you did."

"I've been in town since I got off work," she replied. "Well, thanks to whomever."

The air proximity alarm sounded and Ratchet moved with Optimus to greet Fowler. Still frowning Jack walked softly over to the computer terminal where the steady typing was still emanating from. The young man stopped dead when he rounded the partition. Sitting in the battered old office char was a beautiful young woman he had never seen. Short cropped red hair framed delicate ears and creamy white skin. She wore a slightly dusty but new pair of trim black pants and a black sleeveless tee with a blue band across the shoulders. Jack blinked rapidly several times, trying to clear his mind.

"And who, exactly, are you?" he asked as firmly as he could manage, she was beautiful and he was after all a healthy young man.

The woman causally glanced up and emerald green eyes flashed out over a pert little nose. Pink lips spread in a warm smile revealing gleaming white teeth.

"Miss Elspeth Gore, at your service," she replied. "Hope you don't mind I made a cuppa while I waited for someone to notice me, and I am so glad to see you carry the good stuff and not the usual American excuse for tea."

"Jack Darby. You're Scottish," Jack stated, confusion still dominant.

The woman let out a mock gasp and her long black lashes parted dramatically.

"What gave it away?"

Jack shook his head and let out a low chuckle.

"Okay, how did you get in here?"

"Oh, I just nipped in through this dusty old tunnel in back, left my kit at the door. Dreadfully poor security you have here. Ah, before you go sounding the alarm, I'm just typing up how I did it and a few other weaknesses I spotted as well, so you might as well let me finish."

"What are you doing here?"

"Classified!" she chirped out with a cheeky grin.

Jack noted that her strong calloused fingers kept typing away at the keyboard even as she talked to him. He heard Fowler chatting away with Optimus and let out a sigh. The raven haired youth leaned against the partition and kept his eyes locked on her as she finished typing the document. With a graceful flick of her wrist the woman pulled a jump drive from the computer and stood. Jack noted with a frown the large metal case that she picked up. It was about the size of a small duffel bag, soundly locked, and attached to her wrist with a long pair of handcuffs.

"Optimus Prime," Jack called loudly as he escorted the woman towards the catwalk. "We have an intruder."

The sound of weapons charging filled the silo as Arcee and Bumblebee placed themselves between the other two humans and whatever the threat might be. Jack watched Miss Gore start at the sound and stumble a bit at the sight of the Bot's. The young woman's green eyes were wide with wonder, glee, and something else he couldn't quite identify; some sort of satisfaction maybe? She was clearly seeing the Cybertronians for the first time, but for all that she didn't seem quite surprised enough.

"What in the name of Uncle Sam's beard is going on here?" Agent Fowler's voice cut through the noise.

"Bugger, I'd been hoping to avoid the American officials," the woman murmured to Jack, but then her searching gaze found Optimus standing slightly back from the others. A gasp escaped her lips and Jack heard the woman whisper softly. "Finally, it's _him_."

"Him?" he asked in confusion, moving slightly to shield her from Fowler's oncoming wrath.

Suddenly she threw back her head and let out a peal of delighted laughter; shocking the approaching Fowler into silence. Her eyes locked onto Optimus and she began to speak as if reciting something long memorized while clutching the metal box to her chest.

"Standing approximately 35 feet, possessing a color scheme predominantly of crimson and cobalt, visual organs of luminous London Topaz blue (optics the goode Captain pronounced them), said to exude an air of authority not to be denied," here her tone changed and she looked directly into the Prime's optics, completely unafraid. "By this description may I take it that you are the rightful leader of the faction of Cybertronians known as the Autobots, Optimus Prime?"

"I am Optimus Prime," he confirmed with a curious glance at the befuddled Fowler.

"Class Sigma nine response required, authorization Gamma-seven-ought-five-three-delta-nine-five."

A collective wave of astonishment washed over the assembled Autobots at that but Optimus calmly responded.

"Authorization Prime Alpha-nine-gamma-five-three-seven-beta-six-triple-delta."

Reaching into a small bag that hung at her side the redhead pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the cuffs from her wrist.

"Optimus Prime. I, Elspeth Gore, hereby present you with a communication from Captain Holdfast of the Autobot battleship Challenge."

"Holdfast!" Arcee gasped out in astonishment. "His ship was declared lost centuries ago."

"But it was in this sector," Ratchet reminded her.

"Why wasn't out government informed of this communication?" Fowler suddenly demanded, finding his voice again.

"Well first off you bloody Yank; the instructions that the Autobot Captain gave to the Royal Navy Captain were that the message was to be presented to Optimus Prime and no other, but secondly; at the time the message was entrusted to him the Crown didn't recognize that little band of rebels in New England as a government."

As she spoke she handed the metal box to Optimus who delicately accepted it and held it out to Ratchet to be scanned. The special agent was sputtering in confusion when Ratchet nodded and Optimus extended a slim wire to unlock the container. From the foam padded interior he lifted a time worn but well cared for wooden sea chest secured with leather straps and a bronze padlock.

"How old is this message exactly Miss Gore?" June asked with a smile as she walked up to the other woman.

The redhead glanced up at Optimus about to ask a question but the Prime responded first.

"Everyone here has my complete confidence, please answer their questions."

"Two-hundred thirty-four years this August," she said with a grin. "The Captain in question was none other than James Cook of the Royal Navy."

"Captain Cook knew an Autobot?" Raf asked in astonishment. "I never remember that in the history books."

"Miss Gore," Ratchet interjected. "How pray tell did this device come into your hands?" He held up an obviously Cybertronian device; small in his hands, that he had removed from the sea chest.

"I'd like to know that myself," Fowler growled. "There's no way you're MI6."

"You are correct; I'm no secret agent of any sort. I am simply the descendant of one Captain John Gore."

"I thought you said the message was entrusted to Captain Cook?" Fowler cast her a suspicious glare.

"But Captain Cook died before he could reach England at the end of his last voyage," Jack offered.

The young woman flashed him a grin and nodded in confirmation.

"An American boy with a decent education in history," she quipped, "aren't you supposed to be on an endangered species list? Yes, Cook died on the Hawaiian Islands. He had entrusted the package to Captain Clerke in the case of his death, but Clerk also perished before reaching Plymouth. The task of keeping the record until such a time as it could be delivered to Optimus Prime fell to the then Lt. Gore. Which in retrospect was most likely for the best, as neither Captain Cook or Clerke successfully reproduced, while there are enough Gores and Gore cousins littering this planet to populate a small country."

"Anyway," she turned her attention firmly back to Optimus. "I need to inform you of a few things. In the sea chest is the device Captain Holdfast gave to Captain Cook said to contain the ship logs of the _Challenge_ up to that date. Underneath it are the ships logs of both the _HMS Discovery_ and the _HMS Resolution_ pertaining to the dates they interacted with the Autobot vessel. In the metal carrying case is the list of all the Gore's who have carried the message down through the years. I am willing to stay and answer any questions you might have but we all know how uptight these Yankee's get about their secret bases, so as I have discharged my duties I will leave now if you want me to."

Fowler was sputtering again. June hid her smile as she watched the young woman's effect on the agent.

"I would prefer that you stayed until I have reviewed the material," Optimus stated, "if this is permissible Agent Fowler."

The human took a deep calming breath and shook his head

"That's fine Prime," he glared ruefully at the redhead one last time and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'more paperwork'.

"So are you the one who made the tea?" June asked.

"Yep, got board waiting to be noticed, which reminds me," she held up the jump drive to the Autobots. "I couldn't help but notice when I broke in that your security is a bit shoddy. I detailed how I got in and a few other holes I noticed if you want to look at it."

Ratchet sputtered in indignation at the comment much to Miss Gore's delight and snatched the device from her hand. Optimus had already pulled up the _Challenge's_ logs and was studying them carefully, while Ratchet scanned the other two logs.

"So your family has known about the Autobots all this time?" Fowler demanded. "Why wait until now to come forward."

"Agent Fowler," June said in her nurse voice.

The man wisely shut his mouth.

"Miss Gore has come a long ways and done us all a great favor. Please remember that. Right now," she turned to the younger woman and indicated the couch. "Won't you sit down and share a cup of tea with us?"

"Love to!"

"My name is June Darby. Please call me June."

"Then I'm Elly. Darby huh? So the smart lad here would be your baby brother then?"

"My son," June said with a chuckle.

"No! You don't look old enough!"

Miss Gore sat down on the couch as June poured tea for everyone.

"And who's this?"

"I'm Rafael Esquivel," the boy introduced himself shyly, a little overwhelmed by the newcomer.

"Well it's very nice to meet you Mr. Esquivel," she said extending her hand.

"Please call me Raf."

"Delighted Raf."

"So your family has been keeping these records safe for nearly three centuries now?" June asked as she sat down beside Gore; Jack and Fowler were standing on either side of the television.

"Yep! Passed down father to son by the Gores for twelve generations."

"You're no son," Fowler commented dryly.

"Yeah, well granddad had five girls, so they all made their husbands take the family name, but none of the aunties had boys either. When I turned sixteen he came to me and spent about a year convincing me that this was for real and here I am."

"Why wait until now?" Jack wanted to know.

"Well some government," she shot a glance at Fowler, "decided to be a bit quiet about the whole 'aliens tromping all over the flipping place' thing didn't they?"

"We have our reasons," the agent growled.

"And they're perfectly sound ones I'm sure," she continued dismissively. "But it wasn't until a cousin of mine in the Royal Society heard that the Yanks were nosing around for anything in Royal Navy records pertaining to giant robots that I got wind of it. Then another cousin of mine went hunting for sightings on the web and this little town called Jasper kept cropping up. So I flew across the pond and drove out here." She took a sip of the tea and smiled. "The next bit was rather tricky. Captain Holdfast had told Captain Cook that they liked to impersonate mobile machines. So I just kept a lookout for any autos that appeared out of place. Then this shiny yellow American muscle car without a driver caught my attention. I saw it drive south out of town and had another cousin who's pretty high up in the RAF do some digging for me."

"That inquiry about defunct military bases we had a few days ago," Fowler nodded in understanding. "Your cousin is Air Chief Marshal Smythe?"

"I told you, enough Gores to populate a small country, his mother was a Gore. Anyway, I hiked out here and nosed around the mesa until I found a way in. Nobody was around so I typed up my report and mad a pot of tea."

Fowler let out a low chuckle.

"Ratchet was so sure the base was impregnable. Guess he focused on Decepticons so much he forgot to account for a human intruder. The mech is going to blow a gasket."

"What's the Royal Society?" Raf asked from his perch on the arm of the couch.

"An old, old, club for eggheads to get together and talk about sciencey stuff."

"Miss Gore," the deep voice interrupted the conversation. "I would like to thank you for bringing this to our attention. I have already proven useful and may yet prove invaluable."

"You are perfectly welcome," she replied. "I was simply glad to be of service and finally be able to fulfill my family duty so soon. Captain Holdfast was of the opinion that it would have to wait until we developed spaceflight on our own."

"Our coming to this planet was unexpected."

"You know, this is all absolutely amazing and everything," Miss Gore said shifting a little. "But if you don't need me I really need to be getting back to my home. You see, granddad doesn't have long left and I'd like to be able to tell him that I succeeded before he passes."

"You are of course free to go," Optimus said. "Ratchet please prepare a groundbridge for our guest."

"A what now?"

"Groundbridge," Fowler explained lading her towards the device, his humor slowly returning, "stable wormhole type thingy. You'll love it. Get you back to the UK in less than five minutes. When you do get back I trust you will be able to keep everything here to yourself? Except for debriefing your grandfather of course."

"What? No mountain of paperwork to sign, swearing I won't tell a soul?"

"Oh, don't worry. You'll get a visit soon enough from MI6. We find people usually respond better to those things when they come from their own government."

"That makes perfect sense," she replied in surprise, "are you sure you're American?"

"Get outta here before I arrest you," the agent growled, but he couldn't completely hide the grin. "This," he indicated the portal that swirled to life, "will take you to a large abandoned warehouse in Edinburgh. Will that do?"

"Yeah, I can catch a bus home from there. But my kit is still back where I got in and my rental is still parked back on the road."

"We'll take care of all that. Just watch your step leaving, there will be about a foot drop."

With a final wave goodbye the young woman walked fearlessly across the event horizon.

Fowler made his goodbyes after collecting her gear and took off in his jet.

"So what's it say Optimus?" Jack asked, pointing at the records still scrolling across the screen.

"You remember the plague ship that we found in the Gobi desert?"

The human nodded and a shiver ran up his spine.

"That was the _Challenge_; captained by Commander Holdfast. According to these logs they engaged the _Viper_ and then came to Earth to resupply."

"Wait," Raf's head shot up. "The _Viper _was the ship Driver was on!"

"Indeed, Holdfast recorded their interactions with the gestalt. It happened much as Driver told us. The virus that Airachnid infected the gestalt with was in fact a carrier version of cybonic plague, and it was Captain Holdfast who captured them and placed them in stasis. From the logs of the human ships this Captain Cook observed the final battle between the two vessels that resulted in the _Challenge_ crashing to Earth, and the _Viper's _destruction. He also records a small point of light leaving the scene of the battle before the final explosion."

"Airachnid's escape pod no doubt," Arcee stated bitterly. "The coward."

"No doubt," Optimus agreed. "But there is more in the human's logs."

"What else?" June inquired.

"It appears that in accordance with Captain Holdfast's request, Captains Cook and Clerk concealed and recorded the location of a substantial amount of processed energon; if these records are accurate, enough to last us several months. It is scattered around several islands and hidden well underground but should still be useable after all this time."

"That's great!"

"Indeed Rafael. Autobots prepare to roll out!"

Many thanks to all my loyal reviewers on this story! I had a blast writing for you.

Especial thanks to Merchant Navy Cadet for his help in editing this last chapter.


End file.
